Blind Uchiha Beauty
by Nicolah2009
Summary: The daughter of Uchiha Sasuke and Uchiha Kaede, and the sister of the extremely successful Uchiha Itake, Mikoto is an outcast. Her Sharingan hasn't activated, and she's in denial about her blindness. Who can help her other than Naruto's son Soma? OCXOC
1. The Beginning

**Okay, I've been working on this because of a request I had, and I figured it might make for an interesting read. I hope you enjoy it! Here's the full summary:**

Uchiha Mikoto, the daughter of the great but stupid Uchiha Sasuke, and his equally great but stupid wife, Uchiha Kaede, sister of the great and wonderful Uchiha Itake, niece of the amazing Uchiha Itachi. Yeah, that's her. Realize where this is going? Where does Mikoto fit in all this, in all of this wonderful greatness that is her family? A girl whose Sharingan hasn't even activated (and she's ALREADY fifteen, can you believe it?), and who is slowly going blind, though she doesn't know it. Her family does, but she refuses to listen to them. And when she runs off to find Uchiha Madara, who is long dead and gone, so that she can activate her Sharingan (impossible!), she is followed by her best friend, Uzumaki Soma, the second son of Uzumaki Naruto, the Hokage, and the boy she's had a crush on forever. When her blindness finally consumes her, who do you think will be there for her? Soma, of course...

**Disclaimer: Don't own naruto, never have, never will**

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Simultaneously, Soma and I heaved a long, agitated sigh as we watched our older brothers' spar. Blonde-headed Arashi and black-haired Itake were going at it, and had been for the past half hour. Neither of them showed any signs of tiring, either, so until they were through, Soma and I were forced to wait on the edge of the ANBU training field to be taken home.

As if we needed escorts, anyway. I was fifteen, and Soma was sixteen, and we were both close to becoming Jounin. We could take care of ourselves just fine, but our parents would freak if we came home without our older brothers. Especially Soma's dad, considering he was the Hokage and all and it was dangerous for an "inexperienced child of the Hokage" to be out and about by himself. But he had me with him! He wasn't all by himself, really!

Yup, that's right. Soma's father was none other than Uzumaki Naruto, the seventh Hokage of the Village Hidden in the leaves. His mother was Uzumaki Sakura, a skilled medical ninja trained by the Fifth. And my parents? Well, that was a different story.

Mom, however short-lived that term may have been, once reigned as the Sixth Hokage, but now was a simple ANBU who enjoyed quick, not-so-dangerous missions and long walks holding the hand of my father, Uchiha Sasuke, the ninja who once betrayed the village to join in with the evil Orochimaru and assisted in our taking back of the village five years after Mom caused the entire takeover situation. Yeah, I knew the entire story, all right.

Uchiha Kaede, formerly known as Kaede Shinota, had apparently disregarded the massive amounts of scrolls on her desk in a week of mourning and of course, one of those scrolls had had a red ribbon tied around it, and was Orochimaru's official warning for the war he was planning to rage against Konoha. When she'd finally found it, it had been the day before the attack, and Konoha lost to the Sound. For five years. _Five years_.

So as you can imagine, growing up the daughter of the betrayer and the Hokage who failed the village, I lived under quite a shadow. Of course, there was the little fact that I was Uchiha Mikoto, daughter of the great (but stupid) Uchiha Sasuke and niece of the terrible but powerful Uchiha Itachi, whom no one had seen head or tail of for twenty-some years. In my opinion, I figured he'd been killed or taken over by Orochimaru, but hey, it was only my thoughts. Like they counted.

And then there was the problem of growing up with an outstanding older brother, Uchiha Itake, who always aced all his tests, graduated at the top of his class, and was an ANBU at age fourteen. Oh, did I also mention he was also head of ANBU black ops at age fifteen? Yeah, quite a reputation to live up to.

I heard a satisfied "Yeah!" coming from the battle field and felt Soma standing up beside me. I followed suit, seeing that Itake and Arashi had finished their fight, Arashi winning of course—hey, he was the son of the Hokage, after all, and the grandson of the Fourth—and stretched my arms up over my head, trying to get the cricks out of my neck.

"Good, you're finally done," I commented as the two older ANBU came walking over to us. Itake smirked.

"What, were you getting bored with watching our superior skill?" he teased, and I rolled my eyes.

"No, I got bored watching the two of you wrestle around like gay squirrels fighting over an acorn." Itake glared at me, but I ignored him and turned to leave. "Are you two coming or what?"

In a moment Soma was walking beside me, and we could hear our brothers chatting a few feet behind us. About what, I didn't know, probably about how absolutely gorgeous Hyuga Arana was or something like that, or how much they wished she wasn't dating that Nara boy, Gakuto. I could remember my parents telling me how shocked they were when the found out Shikamaru was marrying some girl named Kutsumo Hazuki. And even more so when the couple announced they were having a baby.

I knew that both Arashi and Soma had the biggest crush on Arana, and how crushed both of them were every time she turned them down for a date or flat-out cursed them out for flirting with her. Of course, having a five-minute older brother that could punch like nobody's business helped, too, and her boyfriend being the least-lazy of the Nara clan. It was amazing, but Gakuto seemed to have caught a little of Naruto's spirit in him, strutting around to his father's dismay.

Arana was a really sweet girl, though. She might have gotten some of Neji's aloofness, but she had her mother's habit of pulling pranks on people. And she was really pretty, too, with her pale, innocent eyes, dark-brown hair she kept back in a ponytail, and tiny but muscular figure. Sometimes I wished I looked like her, instead of having my brooding Uchiha looks that most people seemed a little intimidated by, despite all of my attempts at being nice to everyone.

But that was what I got for being an Uchiha.

I sighed again, and leaned against Soma's shoulder. He draped his arm around my waist and pulled me tighter against him. Behind us, I could hear Arashi and Itake snickering, but I ignored it. The two of them always thought Soma and I were dating, but we weren't. It was nice being able to hold hands with someone and lean against them when I was tired and still be just best friends. But that was how close Soma and I were—we'd known each other since I was born, and grown up together, in classes, on teams, and all that other stuff. Our relationship was just that of two best friends forever.

Yet sometimes….I closed my eyes for a moment to repress the thought. Okay, so it didn't help that my best friend was absolutely gorgeous—even with the pink hair—and the sweetest, most selfless, kindest person I'd ever met, or probably would meet in my entire life. That was just Soma. The perfect gentleman his parents raised him—and his brother, whom I thought failed miserably—to be. So it wasn't really my fault when my heart gave a little flutter every time he came into a room. Right?

It wasn't long before we reached the main area of Konoha, and our parting point. Soma and I waved goodbye, promising to meet up in the morning, while Arashi and Itake scheduled another rematch for tomorrow afternoon. I impatiently waited for Itake to start walking, and fell into step beside him.

Itake was a good head taller than I was, and his features were much sharper and well-defined. He looked just like Dad, with the black hair, black eyes, brooding expression, and proud way he carried himself, as if he knew he was better than everyone else. There were light shadows under his eyes from lack of sleep. He always got up earlier than anyone in our family—except maybe Mom on a mission day—and went to bed last. Sometimes, if I couldn't sleep during the crack of dawn, I would go to the window and watch him train outside, wondering where the heck he'd gotten all that talent and why only a minute amount had been left for me.

I, on the other hand, sort of took after Mom. Sure, I looked like the typical Uchiha, but when you got right down to it, I was more or less a miniature of Mom, only with black hair and black eyes. I had crisp features, a small nose (like Mom's), and slightly narrower eyes than Itake. You could only really see those small details if you looked for them, but I knew they were there, and that was what bothered me.

"So…" Itake's voice distracted me and I glanced up at him.

"What?"

"So when are you and Soma gonna finally get together?" Itake teased, but I heard the meaning behind his words and punched him in the shoulder. He rubbed the spot, giving me a half-amused glare. "I forgot I taught you how to punch. Ow."

"Yeah, sucks for you." I sighed. "And haven't we been through this before? Soma and I are never going to get together. We're best friends, that's it."

"Sure you are," Itake said knowingly, and I aimed another punch at his arm. He stopped me this time, though, and shook his head. "I may have taught you to punch, but I think we need to work on the element of surprise." I growled under my breath and took my fist out of his hands, shoving it into my pocket.

For some reason, whenever I did this (sticking my hands in my pockets) around my mother or one of her friends that she'd grown up with, they'd all give this weird smile as if they knew something I didn't, or were comparing me to something. I really didn't understand it, but it irked the heck out of me.

But by now, Itake was used to the small but obviously noticed habit, and didn't say anything. Of course, I don't think he knew what the reason for all the smiling and small chuckles was anyway. He did know, though, that when I shoved my hands into my pockets, I wanted to be left alone.

We made it home in about another ten minutes, and when we walked in—after taking our shoes off at the front door, of course—we found Mom and Dad in the living room, cuddling on the couch. Itake and I both gagged loudly to alert our parents to the fact that we thought it was disgusting when they got all mushy. Dad glared at us, and Mom scoffed. I walked past them to the kitchen.

I poured myself a glass of soda, and dug around in the cabinet for a granola bar. The one my hand landed on was one of those dumb fruity ones, and I tossed it back inside, disgusted. Why couldn't Mom buy normal food, like chocolate-chip granola bars and not her health-conscious ones?

Saddened by the lack of good junk food, I padded back into the living room and plopped on the ground, my back leaning against the front of the couch. Dad's legs were next to me, and I could see Mom's feet dangling over the edge of the cushions—she was obviously still cuddling with Dad, so I didn't look. Instead, I sipping on my water and waited for one of them to start up a conversation, which they did after a few minutes.

"Did you all have a good practice?" Mom wanted to know, and I shrugged.

"I didn't really do anything. Itake and Arashi just wanted to spar, so me and Soma sat around and waited." I rolled my eyes. "As if we need escorts home, anyway."

"Anything can happen," Mom started again, and I bit back the groan I knew would get me grounded. "You don't know what sort of trouble you'll get into the one time you walk home alone."

"What, like Orochimaru's going to walk out of the bushes and attack me?" I grumbled, and felt my dad hit me lightly with his foot: a warning.

Refusing to glance up, and knowing that Mom would be glaring at me, I took another sip of my water, wondering what she'd do if I told her what I was really thinking. Probably beat me senseless and make me the official outcast of the Uchiha family. Cheh, whatever. It wasn't as if she had that much power over me anyway.

I realized after a minute I wasn't going to get anything else out of my parents, so I stood and walked back down the hallway towards my bedroom. Ironically, though neither Mom nor Dad would ever admit it, my bedroom used to belong to Dad's brother, Itachi. Although I'd never call him "Uncle Itachi," I couldn't help but think of him as a close family member that I wanted to know. Sure, he killed everyone but his brother, and so what if he and that clan he was in were after Naruto's demon? As a family member, I still had to think of him as such, and that didn't stop me from wanting to get to know the reasons behind his attack. And since Dad refused to say a word about him, and Mom swore she'd murder us if we questioned about him, none of us kids knew what he was all about!

I sighed and sat down on my little bed with its navy blue sheets and white pillow. It was so bland and boring, just like the rest of the house. My walls were decorated with a few pictures of my family, my friends, and several little "inspirational" sayings Mom put up to encourage me to be more like my brother: determined, intelligent, skilled…the list could go on and on. My floor wasn't carpeted, just wood, like everywhere else in this house, and the only spurt of individuality in the place was a lava lamp I'd convinced Itake to buy for me. Of course, he'd only gotten it for me because I'd threatened to tell Mom about his "important mission" that had really been spent making out with some Chunin girl behind the academy.

Grinning at the thought of what trouble he would get into, I reached over and flipped on my lava lamp. The soft blue light started to glow and the goopy stuff at the bottom started to rise up slowly. Mom was always saying how important missions were, and how you had to respect and love your village to carry out each one with care, precision, and perfection. Yeah, as if she'd done all of her missions as carefully as she should. I'd heard the stories of her sneaking away from the underground hideout to visit her lover (Dad, of course) despite the protests of her friends. I'd heard about her attempts to "betray" the village by seeing Dad—although he hadn't been Dad then, he'd been Uchiha Sasuke, betrayer of Konoha, the last remaining Uchiha that had once been loyal to Konoha, but went on the same path as his brother.

I shook my head and continued to watch the goopy stuff float around the lava lamp, giving an eerie blue glow to the darkened room. I was starting to get mesmerized by its continuous process, and a little dizzy, too, when someone knocked on my bedroom door and brought me from my pleasant oblivion. Grumbling, I hollered for them to come in, and the door opened, revealing my brother in his entire Uchiha splendor.

For a moment, as Itake let himself in the room, I let myself study him and compare him to Dad. He was tall, strong, muscular, and yet somehow slim and wiry with broad shoulders and a bored expression. Sometimes, if I caught a glimpse of him, only out of the corner of my eye, I'd forget that he was Itake and think he was Dad instead. Of course, you couldn't tell Itake that, because he'd find it insulting and insist he resembled no one of this family. Cheh.

"What do you want, Itake?" I muttered, rolling over onto my stomach and staring at him, putting on my best irritated face. "You already tortured me with your stupid sparring match. As if I wanted to watch you and Arashi wrestle around like idiots. Jeez."

Itake sat down on the floor next to the bed and started playing with my long black hair. I let him, utterly bored and having nothing else to do. Besides, I liked it when people played with my hair, for some strange reason. We sat there for a few minutes in silence, until finally Itake tugged hard on a lock of my hair and let it fall. I lunged out to smack at him, but he caught my hand without hesitation and stood up, pulling me with him.

When I was on my feet—after a few minutes of clumsy struggling, I hate to admit—he looked straight down at me and studied my face. He tilted my chin up, and spent a while gazing into my black eyes with a curious, dubious expression on his face. I bit my lip hard to keep from snapping out at him, for I figured that whatever he was getting at was probably important, at least to him, so I knew I'd better keep quiet.

After a moment, he rolled his eyes and took a step backwards so that he was leaning against my desk. "You're eyes are developing slowly."

Ouch.

That comment of his hit me like a punch in the face, a kick in the stomach, and a knee in the groin (unless you've had someone knee you in the groin, you probably don't realize that it still hurts like hell even if you're a girl). By telling me that my eyes were developing slowly, he meant that my Sharingan wasn't developing right, at a turtles pace, more or less. And that was a straight-up insult.

"What?" I said stupidly, and wanted to hit myself ten times over. I was acting like a complete idiot—Itake's opinion of me was going down the drain, I just knew it.

"You're eyes are developing slowly," Itake repeated simply and ran a hand through his long black hair. I cringed at hearing the words again. I didn't want to know that, I wanted to develop my Sharingan as quickly as my brother had, but I'd already passed that time. By the time he was ten, Itake had activated his Sharingan, and although I was fifteen already, I had yet to activate mine. Maybe I'd inherited Mom's genes, and wouldn't get the Sharingan. Oh, Dad would be so disappointed!

Again, I said something stupid. "Oh."

Itake snickered. "If you're really that upset, just go ask Dad what you can do to help it along."

"No!"

I was horrified by the idea, absolutely horrified! Dad didn't talk to us much, just nodded and grunted and "mmm'd" all the time. It really made me upset, though, since he was our father and refused to speak. He only talked to Mom, and that was rare, considering she knew what he was going to say before he said it anyway.

"You know," Itake added, picking at his teeth, "Dad's probably going to be really upset when he finds out you don't have your Sharingan yet."

"I know, I know," I moaned, and flung myself down onto the bed.

"But there is a way you can get it," whispered Itake, and I turned my head to the side to look at him, eager. If I could get my Sharingan before my sixteenth birthday—for an Uchiha should have their Sharingan before then—I could impress Dad and make him be proud of me! "All you have to do is find the legendary Uchiha Madara, and he'll help you."

Okay, now he was just being stupid.

"You and I know damn well that Uchiha Madara is dead, Itake," I snapped, shoving my face into the comforter, "and that there's no way anyone could find him, much less me!"

"Yeah, you're right," Itake said, and I heard him move towards the door. "But everyone says he never left the Valley of the End."

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That night, I didn't get any sleep because of my dumb brother, and when I woke—more like just waited for the sun to rise to get out of bed—I had dark purple hollows under my eyes. In the bathroom, I stared into my black eyes, trying to see what was wrong with them, what Itake had seen. But they were normal, at least to me. Just black, round, and dull as always. Although I wouldn't notice it then, there was a smallest bit of fog beginning to wrap around my pupil.

As I made my way into the kitchen for breakfast, I saw that Dad was the only one there. Hmm. Maybe Mom had gotten another mission or something. Dad had his morning tea and rice balls in front of him, the morning paper still folded on the other side of the table. I grabbed a bowl, filled it with cereal, poured myself some milk, and sat down next to my father, eating slowly. I was starting to feel a little self-conscious around him, almost like if I looked him in the eye, he'd see that I wasn't worthy of being an Uchiha.

We sat there in silence for several long minutes, until I stood up to put my bowl in the sink. Dad grabbed my arm as I moved, and I had to fight not to flinch. If I flinched, surely he'd see it as a sign of weakness.

Looking down at him, I saw that he was looking straight at me, and I avoided his gaze. He tugged me down to his level and pushed my chin up, just as Itake had done last night. My stomach wriggled and flipped inside me, and I tried to force it to calm itself down, which didn't work, of course. I only succeeded in looking utterly aghast that my father was so close.

When he finally let me go, I backed up a few steps without really thinking about it, and mentally scolded myself for it. Kami I was being such an imbecile today!

"Your eyes are dull," he said, quietly, and I swallowed hard.

"Yes, sir," I answered, not knowing why I used such formalities with my father. I'd known him since birth, hadn't I? There was no reason to be intimidated! And yet, my better conscience told me, there was. Dad wasn't a rogue for nothing.

"And your Sharingan doesn't seem to be developing," he went on, ignoring my answer like he hadn't even heard it. Then, he sighed heavily. "Go train. Be back for dinner; make sure you don't go out alone."

Feeling scared, irritated, and relieved all at the same time, I ran out of the kitchen, bowl still in hand. Realizing this, I threw it down on the front step and continued my way down the Uchiha district, my chest feeling as if a huge rock had been lifted off of it. I was terribly relieved that Dad had dismissed me without reprimanding me, and irritated at his insistence that I have someone with me at all times. But I was more concerned with why he'd mentioned my eyes were dull, and that he knew about my Sharingan problems. My eyes had always been dull, hadn't they? A slightly grayer shade than Dad's or Itake's. Right? It seemed that way to me.

And he knew that my Sharingan wasn't developing, but he'd said it wasn't developing at all, not just slowly. My stomach knotted and I bit back a cry. Was I really going to be the freak of the Uchiha family? It couldn't be true, right? The only remaining Uchiha's had the Sharingan: My brother, my father, and Itachi. Oh, please, I begged silently, please let me have the Sharingan! Please let my father approve!

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**Okay, there you have it, the first chapter! Please review, this story is still hesitant, and if more reviews come, I'll write more!**

**Luv ya**

**Nicola**


	2. Wondering and Worrying

**okie doke, here's chapter two. Thank all my first reviewers and all the favs and stuff I got, it was really nice opening my email to all that. Oh, and if anyone wants to read the history of Sasuke and Kaede (Mikoto's parents), go read my first two stories, which are Heart of An Uchiha Boy and Konoha Hearts, they're very good. THanks!  
Luv ya**

**Nicola **

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As soon as Dad had dismissed me from the kitchen, and I'd run out of the house in a flurry, I made a beeline for the Hokage temple, knowing that would be where I'd find Soma. He never left the house until I got there, unless I'd asked him to meet me somewhere or come get me to save me from the wrath of Mom. And it worked; considering Mom was ever-so-fond of my best friend, thank Kami.

On the way there, my stomach twisted and flipped and contorted in ways I'd never thought possible, driving my nerves insane. Behind my ribs my heart pounded away loudly. I had never wanted to disapprove my father, not ever. He was, in truth, my idol, the person I looked up to most and who I wanted to be like. But he'd always sort of looked _down_ on me, if you can understand that. Like I wasn't exactly up to his standards or something. I mean, the way he watched and talked to Itake…that was how I wanted him to treat me. I wanted him to look at me that way, to talk to me like I was a person of his standards, of his level. Not to say he didn't love me—I knew he did—but he didn't show it. And I knew that his way of showing that he cared was by sparring with you, and talking to you (which was a feat in itself), and treating you like a human being. With me, he just sort of acted like I wasn't in the room most of the time.

I closed my eyes for a long moment, pausing in my mad dash to the temple to stop the tiny tears brimming behind my eyelids. No, I wouldn't cry. If Soma saw that I'd been crying—and he knew everything about me, and could even tell if I'd sniffled—then he'd want to know why, and I'd have to tell him, and all this other stuff that I would really rather avoid. So I put up an imaginary dam in front of my tear ducts, and was on my merry way.

The temple was in sight, and in a moment I was in front of the gates, greeting the two guards there. They were a couple of bored-looking Jounin, and lazily opened the gates to let me pass through. I jogged up the path, trying my hardest not to look to urgent, and into the main courtroom. Ignoring the elegant carvings and the gorgeous chandelier overhead, I ducked down a side hallway, and ran down it until it ended in a kitchen. I slowed before I reached the doorway and smoothed my hand over my black hair. Hey, I could still look a little more presentable, couldn't I?

As expected, Soma was sitting at the round wooden table there, munching on a piece of buttered toast. To his right was his father, then Arashi, and his mother was up pouring herself another glass of orange juice. I'd been raised alongside all these people, and they'd all seen me at my worst, but still, I was a little bit self-conscious.

"Hey, Mikoto!" Soma greeted cheerily, patting the chair beside him. Gratefully I took it, and stole a piece of toast off his plate, biting absently into the crisp bread.

"Good morning, Mikoto," Naruto said, looking up from a bowl of (duh) ramen. "How're your parents doing?" Of course he knew how Mom and Dad were, but apparently it was some sort of formality or something.

"Pretty good," I answered automatically as Soma stood up to place his plate in the sink. His mother, Sakura, took it from him and smiled lovingly at him.

She then looked towards me, still smiling. "That's good. You tell your mother that she needs to come over sometime, okay?"

"Yes, Sakura-san," I agreed, getting up when Soma gestured for me to follow him out of the kitchen. "I will. But I didn't see her this morning, I'll tell her later."

"Where'd Kaede be this early?" Naruto wondered aloud, sounding astonished. Next to him, Arashi stifled a snicker. I scowled. I really hated it when people acted like they didn't like my mother, just because of her past mistakes.

"Probably off—ow, Soma! Watch it!" Arashi rubbed the pack of his head where Soma had whacked him. Soma glared at his older brother, green eyes ablaze, and held his hand out for mine.

"Come on, Mikoto. Let's go." I gladly took his outstretched limb and we walked out of the room.

Over my shoulder I called, "Bye, Sakura-san! Bye, Naruto-sama!"

While we walked out, I couldn't help but feel a good deal happier now that Soma was with me, holding my hand. He held my hand every day, but it never got old or irritating. He was like a solid, comforting barrier between me and my troubles, and he was always there, never moving, constantly offering a warm hug or a kiss on the forehead to cheer me up.

Yet the hollow feeling in my leaping stomach still wouldn't go away.

Like I should've expected, the moment we were beyond the gates surrounding the temple, Soma stopped me in my tracks. I stumbled, being as clumsy as I was, of course, and he had to catch me to put me back on balance. He was used to it, though, and by now didn't even have to look to know what I was going to do next. By the time I looked back up at him, I saw disapproval and worry in his eyes.

"What's the matter, Mikoto?" he asked gently, staring me straight in the eyes. Okay, now if you know what it's like to have the biggest crush on a guy so handsome and sweet and all that, and to have him look at you like that and be genuinely worried and upset that you're upset, it's the best feeling in the world, as if you could just lift up and fly away without wings. That was how I felt at that moment, with wings on my heavy heart.

"Nothing," I lied, badly. Soma wrinkled his nose, knowing I was fibbing, and started walking again. I followed, since he still had my hand. His eyes stayed directly on the ground, while I couldn't take mine off of his handsome face. The smooth, elegant lines of his jaw and cheeks, deep hollows where his glittering green eyes were set, the way his pink hair fell over his forehead and only just over his eyes. It made my heart want to melt.

We walked in silence together, hand in hand, through the streets of Konoha. In the most likely scenario, Soma was working out a reason for me to be upset in his head, although I'd thought I'd hidden it very well. Apparently not. Soma was an extremely intelligent ninja, and at sixteen, he was ranked high in the ANBU. I wouldn't have been surprised if a ninja had come up to him at that very moment and given him another mission to go on. He got them all the time.

We reached a small tea shop that Soma pulled me into. Again, I tripped over my feet, but this time I was able to recover by myself. Soma still held onto my arm steadily, though, and we took our seats at the counter. Soma ordered hot green tea for the two of us and tugged a bandana out of his pocket. I rolled my eyes, knowing just what it was. Whenever Soma got a little self-conscious of his hair, he'd whip out this black bandana and tie it around his head so that the pink couldn't be seen. Personally, I found the pink hair to be adorable.

Our tea arrived, and I sipped it slowly, reluctantly returning to my thoughts about the whole Dad situation. What was I going to do, have someone perform surgery on me to make my Sharingan activate quicker? And what had Dad meant by saying my ability wasn't activating at all, and that my eyes were dull? They'd always been dull, hadn't he noticed? I guess not. I sighed, thinking that if Itake's eyes had been dull from the start, Dad would have seen and remembered.

Why he couldn't just glance down every now and then and look at me like he looked at Itake, I didn't know. It was always about how well my brother was doing, not about my own accomplishments. When I'd graduated from the academy, he didn't come to my graduation ceremony—he sent my mother. He'd come to the Chunin exams probably because Itake had been the proctor, and he'd left before I'd been announced a Chunin. The same thing happened with the Jounin exams, and he hadn't even seemed happy that I'd been taken into the lower ranks of the ANBU. All he cared about, ever, was Itake.

I swirled the tea around in my cup, staring down at he dark liquid in the white china without really seeing it. The one real time Dad had looked at me like I was his daughter, and worthy of being looked at, was when I'd mastered the Chidori jutsu. I'd been taught by Itake, of course, but nonetheless, Dad was there to watch me successfully gauge a large hole in the front of a boulder with the lighting in my hand. It had been the proudest moment of my life, until his eyes had turned blank and bored again, and he'd left without a single word of encouragement.

Still, though, I couldn't forget the look on his face when I'd hit the boulder, the pride, the happiness, even if it had only been for a split second. The image was burned into my mind, and every time I went to train I forced myself to compare it with how my Dad looked at me on a normal day. Hell, on a normal day, he barely paid attention to me, much less looked at me, and it hurt to have him do that.

This morning had been a stretch to have him grab onto my arm and speak to me, and normally I would've been happy, if only his words hadn't been disappointed and disgusted. The way he'd said them…you would've thought I'd beaten a puppy to death or something. I knew that my Sharingan wasn't active, and had never even hinted at activating, but I wasn't at fault. How could I have prevented my Sharingan? Why would I prevent my Sharingan? It was only the single most important thing in my life that I strove to accomplish every single freaking day! Yeah, it's not like it's anything significant or meaningful.

Taking another hesitant sip of my tea, I tried to ignore my reflection in the mirror on the other side of the counter, behind the server. But by some evil need, my eyes were drawn to it, and I was forced to look at the dejected teenager in front of me. Blank but somehow tortured expression, dull, nearly-black-smoke colored eyes, sharp cheekbones, straight, slim jaw, smoothly carved, pale face. If it had been anyone other than me, I would have found them beautiful. But it was me, the ashen-eyed girl in the mirror was me, and I couldn't see her as a creature of beauty. Because I wasn't. I only saw the minute flaws in my face, the split ends of my hair, the problems with my eyes, my Sharingan-less eyes.

Somber, shadowy, dreary, was how I'd describe the girl in the mirror, because I knew it was me.

And to make matters worse, at that moment, the absolutely gorgeous Hyuga Arana walked in on the arm of Nara Gakuto in all of her amazing splendor. She had such a well-defined face, trim, muscular figure, and stunning eyes that even I had a time taking my gaze off of her. No wonder Itake and Arashi swarmed her like bees every time she came near them. And to think she landed a guy like Gakuto, too. Some girls just had all the luck in the world.

Forcing myself to smile cheerfully, I raised my hand in a wave and Arana returned the greeting. She sat down next to me, and Gakuto plopped in a seat on her other side.

"Hey," he said, and I smiled, not in much of a mood to talk. Besides, it was sort of hard to concentrate on anyone else when a goddess of beauty was in front of you. Not that I went that way or anything, but don't you just get moments when you see someone who's absolutely gorgeous and you can't move away because you're in something of a jealous awe? That was how I felt whenever Arana was around.

"How are you, Mikoto?" Arana asked, her lips tilting in the most charming of smiles. I swore that if she wanted to, she could become one of those famous geisha you hear about, but her passion was fighting, and that's what she wanted to do. I didn't understand it, but whatever.

"Alright, yourself?" I replied, fighting back the obscurity in my voice that I knew would show through otherwise.

Arana shrugged. "Pretty good." Her eyes flicked towards Gakuto and back, and the dark-brown-haired ninja smirked. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her to him for a quick kiss. I politely looked away, wishing that someone (particularly a pink-haired someone with a black bandana on) would kiss me like that.

"And what about you, Soma?" Arana queried.

Soma looked around in a rush, startled at being brought into the conversation. Maybe he, too, had been trying to avoid looking at the Hyuga woman. "Erm, fine, thanks. Gakuto," he added.

"Soma," Gakuto greeted, and turned to order tea for himself and Arana.

"Have you two been out training already this morning?" Arana wanted to know, and I shook my head.

"No, not today." Soma gave me a look of incredulity, but I nudged him with my foot under the counter. "We're just going to bum around for now. Maybe we'll train later," I added, just so Soma would quit gritting his teeth next to me.

"Oh, well, that's good," Arana said, and took a sip of the tea the server had set in front of her. She didn't look as if she'd tried to look good, I noticed, seeing that her hair was lazily thrown up into a loose ponytail, with frizzy little pieces sticking up here and there, and her clothes were just a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt that looked like it was, or once had been, Gakuto's. "We're gonna take the day off, too. Maybe we'll see you around," she added, because Soma had stood and taken my hand, tugging me along.

"Yeah, see ya!" I said, waving as we ducked out of the tea shop. The second we were down the street far enough so that Arana and Gakuto couldn't see us, Soma spun me around and glared at me.

"What do you mean, we're not training today?" he asked, sounding annoyed.

The image of an angry Dad already forming itself in my mind, I replied, "Umm, well, I just don't feel up to it today, okay?"

"Fine," Soma said a little snippily, and let go of my hand. I immediately felt insulted and alone, because he always held my hand, no matter what arguments we got into. Maybe he was just ticked because I wouldn't tell him what was wrong, but I should've figured that it would only set him off more if we weren't training today. He was really serious about working on his skills and getting up to his father's level, and to him, a missed training session was like a missed doctor's appointment where you were supposed to receive the cure for your quickly-acting fatal illness.

I looked down at the ground under my feet and kicked at the dirt. "Sorry, Soma," I murmured, not really sorry but just saying it to keep him from being mad at me.

"Whatever, Mikoto," he griped, and shoved his hands into his pockets in a way that reminded me of, well, me. "See you tomorrow, then."

I watched him leave (more like watched his feet leave, really) in a quiet, solemn manner. Once he'd disappeared into the crowd, I moved my gaze upwards and let out a heavy sigh. Why did my life have to suck all of a sudden? I mean, really. Had I done something to upset whatever God was up there? As I silently asked these questions, the cheerful blue sky seemed to grin on me, like it was all just one big, nasty joke on poor, stupid Mikoto, whose brother excelled in everything, whose father couldn't stand to look at her, and now whose best friend was angry with her. Life did suck.

Soon, though, I was forced to start walking and quit angrily confronting the sky, because the crowds were getting thicker and I knew they wouldn't appreciate it if I stood there like a rock in the middle of the road. So I started to walk along at my own sluggish pace—hey, if they didn't like it, they'd better suck it up and get over it. I wasn't in the mood to deal with an angry group of people, and was having a hard enough time not tripping over my own two feet. Again.

I was shoved and jostled a little bit, but that was to be expected when one was in such a huge crowd, really. Of course, after a while it was starting to tick me off and I turned on the next guy who had given me a pretty nasty shove.

"Watch it," I snarled, and the guy, a nice-looking young Jounin with a scar on his left cheek seemed taken aback.

"Sorry, little girl," he apologized, but only succeeded in making me angrier.

"I'm not little," I snapped, and glared at the woman who'd been about to push me to get through the throngs of people.

"Jeez, sorry, alright!" The Jounin scowled and started to walk away. I stood there, fuming and not knowing why. The guy had to be at least Itake's age, and of course he would refer to me as little, seeing as I was younger and shorter than him. And there was no reason for me to flip out like that. Biting my lip, I searched the crowd for him and caught sight of his head bobbing a few feet away. I burst into a run, dodging people left and right until I'd managed to reach him.

"Hey, wait!" I hollered, grabbing onto his arm. The Jounin swiveled and, seeing me, rolled his eyes.

"What now, kid?" he muttered. "Look, I don't have time to deal with a bratty little girl, alright? So just leave me alone." He jerked his arm to try and get it out of my grasp, but I held firm, and he stared at me, startled that I was so strong.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I shouldn't have acted like I did to a superior, okay? Sorry." I let him go, and he nodded, lightly touching me on the shoulder.

"It's fine." He turned, but glanced back and stared into my eyes, making me feel extremely self-conscious. "Hey, aren't you Itake's little sister?"

Taking a deep breath to calm the irritation, I replied, "Yeah. I'm Mikoto. And you are?"

"Hayato," he said, and I smiled.

"Nice to meet you, Hayate." After a pause, I went on, "So how's it like working with Itake?"

Hayato groaned. "A nuisance, really. Have you ever noticed how highly he thinks of himself?"

I giggled. "Every single day." We started walking, and for a moment as we laughed, I felt a sudden calm wash over me. Right now, I could ignore the stabs of pain, sadness, and regret, and have a nice chuckle with some random Jounin who knew my brother and how annoying Itake could get.

"I bet it's pretty hard to be his little sister, right?" Hayato asked as soon as we'd stopped laughing. I nodded, thinking that he had no clue how hard it was. Sure, Itake could be a nice older brother, but he was also an arrogant prat.

"Very, very hard," I said carefully, trying to be picky about what words I used. "He's a perfectionist, amazing at everything he does. He even makes washing the dishes seem like a graceful, important skill. And I don't know how he does it!"

Hayato laughed at the amazement and jealousy that was obvious in my voice. "I have two older siblings, a sister and a brother, and they always shot me down in everything I ever did. But eventually, I got up to their level and they left me alone."

I scoffed, doubting that Itake would ever quit, much less that I would ever get up anywhere near his level. I didn't have the Sharingan—the Sharingan was everything! "I hope something like that happens between Itake and me. Otherwise, I'll end up trying to kill him in his sleep!"

Hayato chuckled again, and the sound of it was like the sound of a baritone singer laughing his way through a song. It was pleasant, and made me feel nice and comfortable, even though I barely knew this guy. I didn't even know his last name! But hey, we had a common ground: we both were irritated and annoyed with Itake.

"So, what is such a young girl doing out here by herself without an escort?" Hayato asked, and I shrugged, fighting back the stiffness spreading through my shoulders. Hadn't I already told him I wasn't little?

"Just walking around," I explained, but I didn't meet his gaze, so he kept on looking at the side of my face until I went on, "I did have someone with me, but he got mad at me and ran off."

"Oh?" Hayato seemed curious, innocently curious, but I didn't trust him enough that I would tell him any more than I already had. "And who would this be?"  
"No one that you'll know about," I answered smoothly, without skipping a beat. Hayato gave a short, low laugh.

"You have a quick tongue, Mikoto," he commented. I smiled sweetly.

"I know." He laughed again.

We stopped by the ramen shop and he bid me goodbye, promising to stop by sometime and say hello, if Itake didn't irk him to death by then, that is. I laughed at that, waved, and walked away, heading back towards home. I had nothing else to do, and now that I'd talked to Hayato (for however short a time), I felt a little more confident about going back to the house and facing my Dad again. Since Mom hadn't shown up at breakfast this morning, I still assumed that she was out on some mission, and that meant I was alone with Dad. Itake was out training with his squad again, so when I got back to the house, the only one there was Dad, sitting on the couch, staring blankly at the wall in front of him. I attempted to tiptoe past him, but he summoned me over with a sharp call, and I walked over, reluctantly.

"Yes, Dad?" I asked, standing politely to the side of the couch, just close enough that I could dart down the hallway if I felt the conversation wasn't going in my favor. "Is something wrong?"

"Come sit down." I obeyed, sitting next to him on the couch and turning to face him, pulling my knees to my chest and resting my chin on them. He looked hard into my face, his own expression stone cold as always.

"What?"

Dad shook his head. "There's something wrong with you." Of course, bluntly he states what he thinks is my problem, but vaguely he avoids specifying it. Typical.

"And what would be wrong with me?" I requested, a little snippily, earning myself the death glare. I resisted the urge to flinch and wondered why it always seemed like he saved that look for me and me alone. I couldn't recollect any time he'd used it on Itake, his precious child prodigy.

"Your eyes."

I rolled them obstinately, and Dad got slowly to his feet, heading for the kitchen. I knew I'd insulted him, but I didn't care right now. He made me nervous enough without trying the whole insulted sob act thing on me and making me apologize. Sure, I knew I would have to apologize in due time, but not at the moment. So I, too, got to my feet and followed him into the kitchen. Once again, the only thing in the cabinet was Mom's fruity granola bars, so I sadly picked a bar with banana bits in it and tore open the wrapper. It wasn't as good as the chocolate chip ones, but it would do.

For a few minutes Dad and I just sort of stood there in the kitchen in an awkward silence, me shifting my feet every few minutes, Dad looking everywhere but me, almost like he was ashamed to meet my malfunctioning eyes. It stung when he did something like that, but I was used to it by now. The sharp pain I felt when I was around my father sort of dulled down the longer I hung near him, and the less I tried to think of a moment when he hadn't been so aloof towards me.

A smile tugged on my lips as I recalled one of the few times he'd been really, really sweet to me, when I'd been a child. He'd taught me how to throw a ball, how to properly hold and toss kunai and shuriken, how to predict another's moves, how to play patty-cake and sing pop-goes-the-weasel. And how he'd fallen every time I'd given him the cute puppy-dog eyes whenever I'd stolen a cookie or Itake had placed the blame on me for something that probably I'd had a hand in anyway. It was heart-warming to remember those nicer times, really it was.

But that was then, and this was now. Dad and I no longer got along as well as we had in my early days. We barely spoke to one another unless it was in passing or one of our sharp, clipped conversations. There was a reason for that, but I didn't know what it was and doubted if I would ever figure it out. So, with my heart heavy and my mind forcing the invisible dam in front of my tear ducts, I walked slowly out of the kitchen without another glance at my father.

I felt his gaze on my all the way out of the small kitchen, and by the time I was in the hallway, I had to wipe at my eyes to keep the tears from spilling over. So far my dam wasn't working, and really, I was beginning to doubt that it ever would. Images of Itake flashed through my mind and I spat on the floor. Damn him, and damn that stupid father of mine for putting him before me. I was his only daughter, was that the reason? Because I was a girl, did he think I wasn't worthy enough? No, Mom would have already proved to him that females were just as good as males.

In my room, I flung myself down on the bed and buried my face into my pillow, hoping the soft surface pressed against my eyes would keep me from crying. It worked, and in a minute I was able to pick my face off the pillow and roll over. I stared at the ceiling, at the plain wooden ceiling I'd never gotten around to decorating. Heck, I hadn't gotten around to decorating my room at all. I glanced over at the dark blue lava lamp, and an idea clicked in my head. I was going to redecorate.

* * *

**There you have it! Chapter two! I'm so glad I got this done, now to go work on Is Forever Enough for a little bit, and then back to this one, and so on and so on and so on...u get it. anyway, I hope you review very nicely and stuff like that!**

**Luv ya!**

**Nicola**


	3. Cruel Jokes

**Okay, this chapter took me freakin' forever to write, and now I'm happy it's done. :D :D :D Anyway, I'm not going to be around for the next two days, so the updating will take a little longer, on both my stories. But if any of you are bored, go look at my reviews, find Accessorized, and click on her name. Then go read some of her stories, cuz I like them, and I think they're very good. :D Thanks!**

**Disclaimer: We've had this coversation BEFORE!!!**

**Luv ya**

**Nicola**

* * *

That afternoon, once I'd scrounged some money up from my brother's cash hidey hole he thought was so clever (it was under his mattress, and really, how much more obvious could you get?) and convinced myself that this was the right thing to do, I walked into the living room, where Dad was, of course, and sat down on the couch, hoping that the bills in my pocket weren't crinkling too suspiciously.

Dad was absently sharpening the edge of his kunai, not really paying attention to what his hands were doing. More or less, he was staring at the wall while his hands did all the work. Apparently he had very good muscle memory. So while I sat there, I took the chance to figure up ways that I could ask myself out of the house. Okay, so I could just up and leave, but then he'd call me back or something and give me the third degree, plus a lecture on leaving without telling anyone where I was going. That option was out, definitely. On the other hand, I could say I wanted to get a few things for myself at the market, and ask if I was allowed to go. He might say yes to that.

I'd spent all day trying to convince myself that I was not going to get in trouble for showing some individuality and redecorating my room. Mom would probably be all for it—after all, she was a mother, and she was more understanding than most other mothers. Take Miki, for instance. For most of their lives, Arana and Donovan had been kept sheltered under their mother's watchful eye. And their father's, too, because Neji was just as bad. Only recently, after Arana took a wild chance about a year ago and snuck out of the house to meet Gakuto at the raciest restaurant in Konoha. Of course, her father found her bed empty, made the worst assumption (and the correct assumption), and confronted her. The rest? Well, I wasn't the kind of person to try and remember all the profanities exchanged.

So now that I'd finally worked up my courage, I was fighting with the decision of how to go about this. Okay, if I just asked Dad, he might let me go. But he might not, and instead command me to go to my room and stay there. Or…I could just tell him that I was going to the market and would see him later. It was a conceivable possibility. I figured I'd go with that tactic.

"Umm…Dad?" I said, looking as innocent as possible and avoiding his gaze at all costs. The last thing I needed was for him to stare me in the eyes and mention my Sharingan problems.

Dad turned his head slowly to look at me, his hard black eyes bored and annoyed. "What?"

I was starting to get nervous. "I'm going to go to the market to get a few things…okay? I'll be back soon."

"Hn." Dad stared at me for a long, long, long moment, and finally turned his gaze back to the wall, but not before flicking his eyes over mine and showing the smallest hint of a scowl. I winced, waved a nervous goodbye, and darted for the door.

The wooden door slammed shut behind me, and I sighed, relieved that I was out of that tense living room. I pulled my shoes on over my feet, patted my pocket to make sure the money was still there, and set off down the street at a jog, hurrying to get out of the Uchiha district. I may have grown up there, and spent most of my time there, but it was still damn creepy. I shuddered every time I passed the cracked Uchiha fan. It just reeked of Itachi, and of the bloodshed he'd caused.

I hurried my way into the main streets of Konoha, making a beeline for the market. There were sure to be some bargains on some pretty good stuff, and I was hoping I'd find exactly what I wanted. The theme I was going for was blue, a navy blue, like my lava lamp. Some blue paint would cover up the dull-looking wood, and new sheets for my bed, and white paint to make little designs on the wall, and a blue rug, and…I could come up with a whole list of stuff I needed.

The market wasn't as crowded as usual, probably due to the rain that was expected later today. I took advantage of this, darting from store to store, from little stand to little stand, everywhere, tossing my brother's money about and becoming loaded down with increasingly heavy bags. By the time dusk started settling in, I was nearly out of cash, extremely tired, and extremely hungry. So slowly, and precariously (trying not to trip), I attempted to make my way to ramen shop for a bowl before I had to head home. But I didn't quite get there completely unscathed.

About halfway down the street from the market, my feet inevitable twisted around each other and I flew forward, my arms flung out in front of me to break my fall. The bags zipped right off my wrists and into the street, their contents spilling out onto the road. My palms hit the dirt first, followed by my elbows, and then my face. I got a mouthful of dirt, my nose filling with dusk and making me sneeze. The breath whooshed out of me and I tried in vain to spit out the disgusting, gritty dirt; I felt my face flush hotly, my ears and cheeks burning red. It was so embarrassing…

"Need a hand?"

The kind, bemused voice came from somewhere up above me, and I tilted my head to the side to get a better view. The slowly setting sun was glaring straight in my eyes, and I couldn't make out who it was. But I saw the outstretched hand and clasped it in my own, grateful someone was nice enough to stop and help me up.

Sloppily I got to my feet, swayed for a moment, and rubbed the dust out of my eyes to better see the person who'd helped me up. "Thanks…" I said, not really seeing the man in front of me—I knew it was a man, because he had a deep voice. But as my vision cleared, I realized that my friend Hayato was standing there, arms crossed, waiting for a proper greeting. "Oh, hey, Hayato! Thanks for that. Oh…" I'd caught of all the stuff I'd bought on the road.

"Hmm?" Hayato looked in the direction I was sadly staring at, and chuckled. "Oh, right." He bent over and started picking the knickknacks and bottles of paint and paint brushes up off the pathway. For a moment, I was stunned—all my stuff was dirty—but then my senses snapped to reality and I bent down to help Hayato. We packed all of my stuff back into their respective bags, well, mostly, and I situated them on my arms again.

"Thanks again, Hayato," I said gratefully, expecting a grin in return. But Hayato frowned.

"Give me some of those," he said, and before I could deny his request, he took more than half the bags off of my wrists and put his own hands through the handles. "You can't carry all those home by yourself. You couldn't even make it down the street."

This was true, so I didn't argue, and instead started leading him through the crowds toward the side road that would take me back to the Uchiha district. I had to admit, my load was much lighter, and it was much easier to walk without falling all over myself.

But apparently, I had thought too soon.

Once again, I tripped and stumbled into Hayato, who managed to keep his balance while holding me up on my feet. I grinned sheepishly at him, wondering why he was helping such a klutz. Maybe it was pity.

He blew through his lips. "Wow. You really are as clumsy as Itake says you are."

"Itake says I'm clumsy?" I asked in a small voice, feeling more degraded than usual. Okay, so my crippling clumsiness was well-known around here, but to have my brother go around and tell everyone about it? That stung. And knowing Itake, he probably made it a huge joke and told anyone who would listen to keep a ten-yard radius around me for their own safety. My brother was just mean like that.

"Yeah," Hayato replied, starting to walk again. I had to rush to keep up with him, and it proved to be pretty hard to keep pace. "But it's not a bad thing. It's kind of an endearing quality, actually." Over his shoulder (because I was still two steps behind) he flashed me a quick, kind, sort of crooked smile, and I felt myself melt.

"Thanks," I murmured, skidding around a small pebble. I was watching my feet so intently that I didn't realize we were at the Uchiha gates until I ran smack into Hayato's back. He lurched forward, but his feet stayed in place, so I took a step to the side and tried not to blush. "Sorry."

"No problem." He let me lead the way again, and I walked ahead, feeling very confident now that I was on a turf that never changed and that I knew well. I wasn't going to trip this time, for sure, even with the bags.

But as we walked closer and closer to my house, I felt my stomach twist as my thoughts turned to Dad. What was he going to say when he saw me walking home with Hayato, much less having Hayato carry most of my bags for me! Normal dads would probably just get all stiff and formal and defensive, but my dad wasn't normal. He was as abnormal as you could get. The only reaction I could picture him having was blowing up in poor Hayato's face, snatching the bags, yanking me inside, and grounding me for ten months. Oi.

I cleared my throat and stopped a few feet away from our house, digging my toe into the dirt. "Umm…thanks, Hayato, but I can carry them from here."

For some reason, when Hayato looked at me with those big brown eyes of his, I felt like he was seeing right through me, and therefore I kept my eyes on the ground, holding my arm out for the bags. But he didn't give them to me. Instead, he took a step forward and chuckled lightly. When I looked up, he was so close I could see the rise and fall of his chest, and I fought back the blush.

"Mikoto," he said, grinning. "Are you kidding me? I wouldn't let you walk up those steps with all these bags for my life! You'll kill yourself."

"I've fallen down the steps before and I didn't die…" I muttered, but reluctantly complied and walked onto the porch. I kicked off my sandals and glanced warily at Hayato. "But be warned—Dad's not the nicest person in the world."

"Oh, don't say that," Hayato scolded, but he looked a little worried nonetheless. I felt a little better at seeing him concerned about his own safety for once, and I pushed open the door. I could hear Dad walking around in the living room, pacing probably, and knew that he was waiting for me to get home. He was so overprotective.

"Dad!" I called warily, but still trying to keep my voice confident, "I'm home!"

"Finally," he snapped, walking into the foyer-like room I was standing in. Hayato stepped through the doorway behind me and closed the door, looking around nervously. I could tell he was working at hiding his worry, though. Dad's eyes raked over the man standing in his foyer, and they narrowed dangerously as he glanced back to me. "Mikoto," he said sharply, "who is this?"

For a second, I couldn't find my voice, so Hayato stepped forward with one hand extended, the bags slid back onto his wrist. "Matarashi Hayato, sir."

Not one to ignore an outstretched hand, Dad clasped Hayato's in his own and gave it a firm shake before turning to give me a look. "Uchiha Sasuke. Nice to meet you, Hayato. I see you've made friends with my daughter here."

Okay, I had to admit, it was going a little better than I'd expected. Dad hadn't blown up or grounded me yet. Hence the word "yet."

"Yes, we sort of ran into each other earlier today in the market, and I saw her trying to carry all these bags home and thought she could use some help," Hayato explained, winking quickly at me. Winking was a mistake, because Dad didn't miss anything that went on around him, but I appreciated his effort just the same. "I work alongside your son, Uchiha-san," he added, drawing Dad's attention to his favorite subject: Itake.

"Oh, you're that Hayato," Dad said, looked immediately interested, although no one except those who knew him would be able to tell. "Itake has told me many good things about you. He says you're a hard worker, a skilled ninja, and a good teammate, all necessary qualities in this world."

_Yeah, wouldn't you know, _I thought viciously, suddenly angry that my father was complementing Hayato on solely Itake's opinion. If I'd said anything about Hayato, Dad would've told me I didn't know what I was talking about. But as these thoughts ran through my mind, Dad shot me a quick glare, and I recoiled automatically. It wasn't as if he was going to hit me, but it frightened me all the same.

I reached out for the bags, and Hayato handed them to me reluctantly, as if he wasn't took keen on talking with Dad for an extended period of time. I took them, and quickly disappeared down the hallway, wanting to get started on decorating my room. If Dad wanted to chat up Hayato all day, that was fine with me. It meant less time for him to be curious as to what I was doing in my room, and more time for me to decorate.

Once my door was shut securely behind me, I set all my bags on the floor and dug around until I found the paint and brushes. But before I could start painting, I remembered that I needed to move the furniture, so that's what I did. My dresser, desk, and bed were all pushed to the center of the room, and I worked around them, evenly brushing the blue paint up and down my walls. My room was small, which made it easier to paint, and after forty-five minutes of undisturbed redecorating, I had one entire wall painted completely blue, and about half of the other one.

I stood back to survey my success when I heard someone walking down the hallway. They were clunking rather loudly, so I immediately assumed it was Itake come home from training or a mission or something. Dad never walked so loudly, and I'd never heard Mom put all her weight in her feet like that. The footsteps stopped outside my door, and whoever it was knocked.

"Umm…hang on a sec!" I called, picking my way across the room and opening the door just enough for me to fit through, my goofy smile and all. It was Itake. "Hey, big brother! What're you up to?"  
"I should be asking you that," Itake said, folding his arms and leaning against the doorframe. I had to inch over to make room for him, and still keep my room carefully obscured from view. My stupid smile widened.

"Now why would I be up to something?"

Itake rolled his eyes. "Mikoto, I'm not dumb. You're doing something in there that you shouldn't. Is there a boy in there?" he added, starting to look furious. I quickly shook my head. Great, he would have the same reaction as Dad. Double the trouble. "Because if there is, I'm coming in!" He made a move to push me out of the way, but I grabbed onto his wrist.

"Itake! Trust me, there's no guy in here. Umm…there might be one in the living room, though…" I wasn't quite sure if Hayato had left or not, or how long Dad had talked to him for.

But, to my welcome surprise, Itake chuckled. "Yeah, I know. Hayato's down there, and Dad's still talking his ear off. Oh, which reminds me why I came to find you. Dad wants you in the living room. And me," he muttered under his breath, and I sighed.

"Okay, just a sec."

I slipped back inside my room and shut the door in Itake's face, breathing a sigh of relief. Itake hadn't seen what I was doing, and while I was in the den with Dad I could keep an eye on him, because he was supposed to be there, too. Thank Kami. I carefully screwed the paint caps back on the super-sized bottles, wiped my hands on a paper towel, and hurried out of my room. Itake was waiting outside the door, so we walked into the living room together; Dad looked up at us as we entered, and gave us a strange look, probably because we both appeared utterly bored, with our arms crossed over our stomachs.

Dad motioned for us to sit, and we did. I took the seat next to Hayato, and Itake sat down on the chair. I nodded in a sympathetic greeting to Hayato, who grinned back and scooted a little closer to me. I flushed unwillingly.

"Mikoto," Dad said sharply, and I immediately focused my gaze on him—well, his chin, to be more accurate. I couldn't bring myself to look him straight in the eye. He was too intimidating, and I was afraid he'd comment again on my screwed up eyes. "I am taking you to the doctor, do you understand?"

This made me look him head on, my expression sharp and startled. "What?"  
He frowned.

"Sorry, I mean, okay, when're we going?" I corrected myself, focusing again on his smooth chin.

"Now." Dad looked over at Hayato. "Hayato is going to accompany us, and Itake, you will be staying home the rest of the evening."

"Alright," Itake grunted, putting his hands behind his head and putting his feet on the coffee table. Dad didn't say anything, just glared at his son's feet and stood up. I followed him, and so did Hayato. Hayato put his hand on my shoulder, smiling comfortingly at me as we walked out of the door, but his comfort did little. I knew why we were going to the doctor. Dad wanted to get my eyes checked out, and I was starting to get very, very nervous.

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I kept my eyes on everything else but my father. I couldn't look at him; he would only make me more nervous. Going to the doctor had been a stupid idea, and all his, so he was to blame for whatever news we were waiting for. This was the last thing I wanted to do. I didn't want to get my eyes checked, for fear they'd tell me that my Sharingan wasn't activating and never would, and my Dad would hate me for the rest of my life because I wasn't strong enough.

Hayato sat on one side of Dad in one of the only two hard plastic chairs in the room, while I was stuck sitting on top of the cold metal table that was for examining patients. The doctor had taken tests on my eyes, looked in them, taken close-up pictures, and even drawn blood from the corners. That had hurt, like hell. And she'd left about twenty minutes ago, promising to bring the test results back as soon as they were in. My stomach was doing cartwheels and various other acrobatics, and I was starting to get nauseous. So that's why I kept looking everywhere except my Dad.

I saw Hayato flash me an encouraging grin out of the corner of my eye, but I ignored him and focused on the shelves full of medical supplies. This would all be alright, I knew it would. The doctor would come back in and be all smiles and tell me that my eyes were fine—I was just a late bloomer, is all. Yes, that was the way to think. Positive thoughts, positive thoughts. No negative thoughts allowed.

But somehow, the impending doom made its way back into my mind when I heard footsteps coming down the hall. I braced myself, expecting the door to open to a somber-looking Sakura with a folder in her hand. Thankfully, though, as my heart rate increased and my breath caught in my throat, the door didn't open and the footsteps passed. I let out a whooshing burst of air from my lungs, and Dad shot a quick glance at me before looking away again. Scolding me for being upset, probably.

I was so preoccupied with trying to avoid Dad's eyes that I didn't hear someone coming down the hallway until they knocked on the door, and I jumped ten feet in the air. Hayato stifled a chuckle, and Dad glowered. The door creaked open, and a bubble-gum pink head poked in, followed by the rest of Soma's mother. I stiffened, clenching my hands into fists as I studied her expression.

By the pitying look in her eyes, the downward pull of her face, and the way she held onto her folder for dear life, I knew it was bad news. Oh, Kami. I wasn't going to get my Sharingan. I was a screw-up. I was the screw-up of the Uchiha family, and I was never going to have my father's approval. I couldn't even look at him, because I knew he'd be thinking the same thing, that his daughter was just a terrible mistake that could not be corrected. He'd just have to focus all his time on his son now, and forget about his little girl. As if he'd ever spent any time with me, anyway, but now he had reason to avoid me.

"I'm sorry," Sakura said quietly, and I felt the tears spring to my useless eyes. No, this had to be a cruel joke, just something that Itake put Dad and Hayato up to, just to hurt me even more. And Sakura…she was in on it, too. Yes, that was it. It was just a mean prank and they'd all soon burst out laughing at how they'd fooled me. But all was silent for a moment, and not a one of the others in the room even hinted at a giggle.

"No," I whispered, looking down at my hands, refusing to look at anyone. This couldn't be true. My Sharingan…it wasn't going to activate. I wasn't going to be as strong as my brother, or my father, or even my mother. I was an uncoordinated little faux pas, an error that permanently scarred the name of the Uchiha's. I heard someone stand up—probably Hayato, because Dad would never come and comfort me—and walk towards me. Before they could touch me, though, I jumped down from the cold hard table and sprinted for the door, slinging it open and glancing back over my shoulder with tears in my eyes. Through my anger, my gloom, I was able to make out the figure of my father standing next to the table, his hand raised as if to reach out and hold me. But in my state, I didn't see it as clearly as I should. I didn't realize that my father was trying to comfort me, was sympathizing with me for the first time in my life.

I dashed down the hallway, shoved those in my way to the side and burst into the lobby. Those there stared at me, wondering what the hell was wrong with this girl, probably able to see what a mess I was, what a mistake. I vaguely caught a glimpse of a head of pink hair at the counter, barely heard my name shouted in a voice I couldn't recognize at the moment. I tore out of the lobby and into the streets, running as hard as I could until I reached the Uchiha district, hardly aware of where I was going.

When I threw open our front door and ran through the living room, my face buried in my hands, I heard Itake jump up and call after me. I ignored him and headed for my room, slamming my door shut behind me and pushing my desk up against it without realizing I was doing it. I flung myself down on my bed and wept, my sandaled feet hanging off of the side and shaking with my sobs.

Misery consumed me. I didn't hear the fists beating on my door, my brother's voice demanding I come out and tell him what the hell was going on, the sounds of his desperate pleading after an hour of screaming at me. I didn't notice my father's footsteps walking down the hallway, his quiet voice telling Itake to leave me alone. Nor was I aware of him sitting down outside my room, leaning back against the door and cooing soft, soothing words through the wood. The tone of his voice reached me, but it had no effect. I didn't know who he was, where I was, what was going on. All I was conscious of was my lack of ability, my failure, the fact that I didn't have the Sharingan and never would.

Only after a few hours did my sobbing stopped, and did I succumb to the feeling of someone's presence in my room. Through my weeping, I hadn't heard my father push the door open by force, shoving my desk back into the middle of the floor, and sit down at my desk chair. There he was when I looked over, brooding black eyes and all. But on his face was an expression I hadn't seen before. It was one of…pity.

My chest stung; that was not what I wanted to see on my Dad's face. I did not want him to pity me—I wanted him to be proud of me. I wanted to see him smile down at me and tell me how much he loved me and how proud he was that I had accomplished what I already had in life. But that wasn't what it was that I saw. He pitied me.

"Mikoto," he said, his voice low and deep, as always. It seemed so strange to me, though, because I hardly ever heard him voice my name. "You didn't stay to hear what the doctor said."

"I don't need to hear it," I whispered, feeling the clutches of agony wrapping around me again. "I know what's wrong with me. I—I—I don't have the Sharingan."

Dad pursed his lips and shook his head. "No, you don't." He paused. "But that was not what the doctor was looking for." I sat up, confused. What? "Sakura was looking for any signs of a rare blindness in your eyes, and she found that you are going blind. In a few months, you will have no sight left at all."

My world started spinning around the edges, slowly rotating until I couldn't tell up from down, left from right. I did not have a chance of getting my Sharingan, and I was going blind? No, this had to be the joke, not my Sharingan. I knew damn well that I was never going to get the special ability of my clan. But going blind? I couldn't be. I had been able to see perfectly my entire life. Sure, I was clumsy as hell and I wasn't the strongest person in the world, but I could see just as well as anyone else. There was nothing different about me—other than the Sharingan.

In the distance, as I spiraled into darkness, I heard Dad call out, "Mikoto!" in a sharp, but somehow worried voice. I felt a small sense of happiness as the darkness closed around me. But by the time I would wake up, that little bit of joy would be gone, replaced by a horrible, empty, aching feeling.

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**Okie doke, there's my sniff depressing chapter. It was SOOOO sad. I listened to so many sad songs while writing this I got depressed. Actually DEPRESSED. That's how bad it was. Ugh. ANyway, I've been playing around with another idea for another story, so don't be surprised if I miraculously post one in the weeks to come. :D **

**Review!!**

**Luv ya much!**

**Nicola**

**BTW--read Accessorized's stories. They're a good read. :D**


	4. Running Away

**Okay, this chapter's short, I know. But I AM SWAMPED. Ugh. ANd I had to end it, b/c I was just dragging it out and well, ya'll should know how that is. Anyway, here it is, enjoy! review!!! **

**Disclaimer: Duh**

**Luv much**

**Nicola**

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Chapter Four: Running Away 

When I came to, I found myself lying in my bed, the curtains drawn closed, and the lights off. It was dark, the kind of dark you get in the middle of the night, so naturally I assumed that it was around midnight or the early hours of the morning. In the darkened bedroom, I started wondering if this was what it would be like when I lost my eyesight. No, wait, I couldn't think that way. Never. I wasn't going to go blind. I was just going to be an average ninja with average eyes, just like everyone else. Yes, that's what I was going to do. Ignore what Sakura had claimed was plaguing my vision, ignore the sad looks I was bound to get, ignore the sympathy everyone was probably going to offer. They didn't know the truth; they didn't understand that it was impossible for me to go blind, because they didn't know my eyes like I did.

I rolled off my bed, my feet hitting the cold floor and making me shudder at the chill. My room was exactly as it had been when I'd dashed inside in a blind rage. Except…my desk was pushed into the middle of the room, leaving my door open for someone to come right in. Who had done that? Nothing in my memories offered an answer, so I forgot the little question for the moment and padded to the door. If it was nighttime, then everyone would be asleep, and sitting on the roof would be totally acceptable. As long as I didn't get caught.

I opened the door as quietly as possible, crept down the hallway on my tiptoes, and slipped out onto the back deck. One jump and I was on the roof, swaying a little unsteadily before I sat down. I hugged my legs to my chest, resting my chin on my knees, and stared out at the vast, empty Uchiha district. All of the people who had died, all of those poor, innocent people…and they'd all been killed at the hands of my uncle, although I couldn't really refer to him as an uncle. He was just another person who was related to me who had the Sharingan, and had he known I existed, would probably look down on me just like his brother did.

Heaving a sigh, I turned my gaze upwards to the brightly shimmering starts, wondering where Mom was right now. She had left for her mission a day ago, and I desperately wished she was with me, sitting her with her arm around me like she usually did when I was upset. Whenever Dad got onto me about some chore I forgot to do or didn't complete quiet to his standards, she always comforted me and told me I was just perfect the way I was. But she'd never mentioned the Sharingan.

Mom never talked about my Sharingan problems, never spoke of how that made me different. Maybe it was because, in her eyes, I wasn't different. Because to her, I was still an Uchiha, still her daughter, still just as wonderful as they day I'd been born. But in a family made up of men with the Sharingan, and one extremely powerful woman, Mom's comments did little to make me feel any better.

I heard someone next to me clear their throat, nearly making me jump out of my skin, and I flipped my head around to see who it was. Light brown hair billowing around her face in the cool nighttime breeze, hazel eyes warm and comforting, Mom sat next to me on the roof, one leg bent, the other stretched out in front of her. She smiled kindly at me and placed a calming hand on my arm.

"Relax, it's just me," she said, and her voice was like a lullaby, soothing my jittery and upset nerves. I found myself smiling pitifully back.

And then, I was collapsing. I inched over to my Mommy and buried my face in her shoulder, feeling the tears coming on again. She pulled me into her lap, rubbing my back and rocking me back and forth. I didn't know when she'd gotten home, but probably she'd been down to visit Dad and he'd told her about my Sharingan. And the possible blindness that was _not_ going to happen to me.

We sat there for the longest, me weeping my little heart out and uttering words that were more like the mewing sounds a cat makes. The only pieces I could decipher (and that was pretty pathetic, considering I was the one cat-mew-talking) were something along the lines of "Mama" and "Daddy" and "Sharingan," which pretty much explained my situation, although I didn't doubt Mom could understand everything I was saying.

Once my good sob was over, I sniffled and wiped my face, embarrassed to even look my Mom in the eyes. But she lifted my chin up and made me. I flushed, but it was well-hidden by my already splotchy cheeks.

"Mikoto," Mom began slowly, her eyes serious and loving, her mouth in a straight line. There was no sign of humor on her face. "You are not going to be disregarded just because you don't have the Sharingan. We'll get through this as a family, okay?"  
I heard something else behind her words, something that had me worried. I loved my Mom more than anything on this planet, and I greatly respected her opinion. But when she spoke like this, with a passion I only heard whenever we were discussing Konoha or family, it made me very, very uneasy. Her voice would get mildly husky, and her eyes would either take on a far-off look to them (when discussing Konoha) or they would bore seriously into whomever she was talking to (about family, of course). Right now, those hazel eyes of hers were looking so hard into mine I almost felt the pressure.

"I know, Mom," I whispered, not really believing the words as I said them. Not only was Mom talking about my Sharingan, she was talking about the blindness. And I was not going blind, there was just no way I was.

Mom pursed her lips. "I hope you do." Then she smiled unexpectedly and started getting to her feet, forcing me to stand, too. "Come on. It's almost time for your brother to get up. You might as well help me fix breakfast or something."

_Busy work_, I thought bitterly as I jumped down onto the deck with Mom and walked into the kitchen. Mom surveyed the kitchen with her hands on her hips, her lips pursed in disappointment. Of course, after my well-earned breakdown last night, neither of the two men in the house had done the dishes, cleaned up the counters, or anything, so the entire kitchen was a complete mess. Dirty bowls, plates, cups, and silverware were stacked up rather high, and I could even see some clean dishes mixed in there. Crumbs, a few dried up spots of juice, and even a smudge of ketchup littered the counter in a sad, disappointing mess.

Mom's lips formed a silent "wow" while I looked around for a dishrag. There it was! But…it was at the bottom of the stack of dishes. I held my hand on the stack of plates and whatnot while I gently tugged the rag out from under them. I ignored the persistent stabbing pain in my chest, rubbing the dirty dishes, picking off crusty food from their surfaces, hoping that mindless work would help keep me from thinking about my current situation.

I vaguely heard Mom muttering about the counters and the floor that hadn't been swept, but it wasn't anything that really concerned me personally, and I was way too sucked into my own thoughts.

But I didn't have much time to wallow in my sorrow, because the moment I put the partially-cleaned dish into the other side of the sink for soaking, two things happened at once. Itake walked into the kitchen twirling a kunai around his finger, and someone knocked on the front door. Mom looked up at the knocking, probably wondering who would be coming to visit so early in the morning. The sun was just starting to creep up, and if Itake was only now coming out of his room, it was really early.

Mom shrugged her shoulder, and I sighed. That meant that I was going to have to get the door. I trudged unwillingly through the living room and down the little hall that led to the front entrance to our house. There wasn't a peep hole, and even if there was I wouldn't use it. We were shinobi, and we could certainly protect ourselves from any potential intruder.

I slowly opened the door, hoping that it wasn't someone I knew, because my eyes were all red and puffy from crying myself to sleep and weeping on my Mom's shoulder. To my disappointment (my great disappointment), there stood Arashi, in all of his handsome ANBU glory, his hand on his little brother's shoulder. Soma was looking sheepishly at his feet, shuffling them around on the front porch. I licked my lips nervously and rubbed the back of my neck. I hated any sort of confrontation.

Arashi squeezed Soma's shoulder, hard, and Soma looked up. His green eyes were apologetic and wary, while Arashi's were calm and strong. I met Soma's gaze for a split second, turned my eyes back to Arashi, and silently asked him what the hell he thought he was doing.

"We were stopping by for a visit," Arashi said smoothly, shaking his brother's shoulder. "You know, to offer our hellos and consolations."

I bristled. They didn't need to come and say how sorry they were that I wasn't going to have the Sharingan. I didn't need to hear how I could still make it as a Jounin and be a halfway decent ninja without the Sharingan. I knew the truth, and it would sting ten times worse if I had to hear it from my best friend.

"Um, come on in then, I guess." I held the door open, and closed it behind them as they took off their shoes. They walked into the living room, me tagging along behind, and Arashi hollered a greeting to Mom, who yelled welcomingly back. I gestured toward the couch, and while Arashi flopped down comfortably on the sofa, Soma took his time and sat down gingerly. I might not have had the Sharingan, but I could still tell when someone was nervous.

I sat on the chair—Dad's chair, but he wasn't up, so I wouldn't have to hear him holler about it—and swallowed hard. My mind was already whirring. It wasn't helping with Arashi and Soma sitting there next to me. Soma and I had argued yesterday, and we hadn't made up. A large part of me wished we would, but a more obstinate part refused to make amends with anyone who had the audacity to totally blow me off like Soma had.

My teeth gritted together, and my fists clenched, all on their own. I guess my mind was too numb to tell my body what to do, so it had just responded to the nerves coursing through my veins. I swallowed hard again, ran my hand over my puffy eyes, and cleared my throat.

"So…what's up?" I asked as casually as I could.

"Nothing much," Arashi replied, not-so-subtly nudging Soma with his elbow. Soma rubbed his ribs and glared. "We were just stopping by. Mom told us what happened and all, so we figured you could use some friends. Soma knew that your mother wasn't home, and everyone knows how unaffectionate your dad is." Arashi shrugged one shoulder. "It seemed like a good idea. Right, Soma?" He nudged his little brother, whose glare only intensified. Arashi scoffed. "It was Soma's idea, but he's too much of a chicken to admit it." Arashi stood, stretched, and ruffled Soma's hair. He glanced around the room, obviously looking for Itake, and I pointed towards the backyard. He grinned, gave me thumbs up, and left me alone with his little brother.

_Great._ I stared stonily in Soma's general direction, not meeting his eyes. He didn't deserve the kind of respect given when one met another's eyes. He was a complete and total jerk. Just because I hadn't wanted to train that day didn't mean he should've been such a you-know-what.

I blew through my lips; all of my anger sagging to the bottom of my feet as I mistakenly looked at that handsome face. I was taking this so far out of proportion. Soma didn't deserve my hatred, although he did deserve a good whack on the back of the head. Besides, looking into those green eyes, beautiful green eyes, made me want to melt. They were so apologetic it was like staring into the face of a tiny little puppy who knew he'd done wrong and wanted to cuddle and make it up to you. Oh, it sent my heart beating rapidly, and I let a smile creep over my face.

"I'm so sorry, Mikoto," Soma said in a voice barely above a whisper. It was a good thing my hearing was great, or else I wouldn't have heard him. At his words, I could feel the lump rising in my throat, and feel the tears brimming behind my eyes. I took a shaky breath, and was unable to resist when Soma stood up and held his arms open. I flew into his chest, weeping for the second time that morning into someone's shoulder. Well, I didn't quite reach his shoulder, but it was still the same.

He held me, rubbed my back, and didn't say a word, just let me cry. I hadn't thought I'd had any tears left, but apparently I did, because when I finally pulled back, his shirt was soaked where my head had been. I smiled sheepishly, feeling stupid. There was no reason for me to cry, right? No, other than the fact that I had no Sharingan, that my Dad hated me, and that I was never going to become the great ninja I'd been brought up to be. Soma wasn't smiling, though.

His green eyes were sad and looked full of tears he wouldn't let spill over. His face was twisted into misery and pity, which stung, because I hated to be pitied by anyone. He leaned forward and down a little bit and kissed my forehead. Normally, this gesture would've sent my heart soaring into the skies, but at the present moment, in the present situation, I really, really, really just wanted to crawl into a hole and die until someone came up with a way to give me the Sharingan.

He pulled me into another hug, pressing me against his wet shirt. I sighed, relaxing. For the moment, wrapped in Soma's arms, I could forget about the strangled relationship between my father and myself, forget that I was not going to have the special ability hereditary in my clan, forget that I was supposed to be going blind. But it all came running back to me the second I stepped back from him.

I sighed heavily. "Thanks, Soma."

"No problem," he replied, shoving his hands into his pockets. I cleared my throat, bounced on the balls of my feet, and shot a glance at the kitchen. Where was Mom? Still cooking, or cleaning, or something like that, probably, but I really needed her to come out here and help me. I wasn't cut out for this sort of stuff, all this intimate stuff.

"Uhh…wanna stay for breakfast?" I asked, trying to find something to distract myself from the annoying flutters in my stomach. Soma shrugged, so I led the way into the kitchen, where Mom had already set out places for Soma and his brother. He sat down at the table, smiling a greeting to Mom, who grinned in return.

I took my place next to Soma and fidgeted, wringing my hands together and twiddling my thumbs. And it bothered me. I had never before been nervous around Soma or Itake—they were like family to me, since I'd grown up around them. Soma was my best friend, and there was no reason for me to be jittery when he was in the room, you know, other than my hopefully unobvious crush on him. But that was it! Nothing else, and normally I could control the girly feelings in my chest.

While Soma chatted it up with Mom, talking about something I was clueless about (or I just didn't want to hear), I looked out the window. I could see Itake and Arashi sparring outside, their moves perfectly choreographed to each other. Itake punched, Arashi dodged, rebounded with a kick, Itake twisted in the air away from it, and doubled back with some shuriken expertly aimed and tossed. The way they moved and sparred, like it was an actual battle, made me envious. Every time I'd tried to spar with someone, I could never get into it the way everyone else did. It just didn't feel right, didn't feel like the real thing. Others could focus and make themselves imagine it was a battle for their lives, but I couldn't. To me, it was like playing ninja as a kid. There was no real point to it, and there was no danger. No reason to fight like your life was at stake, or the lives of your friends.

Itake and Arashi stopped sparring, Arashi having pinned my older brother down on the ground. Itake punched his friend on the shoulder, and Arashi chuckled, returning the gesture. He held out his hand and helped Itake up, who apparently challenged him to a race. I watched as they sprinted full-fledged to the house, at their top speeds. It wasn't but two seconds before they reached the door and flung it open, chuckling, slapping each other on the back. I look on in envy.

Arashi and Itake were the best of friends, always had been. Soma and I, being the younger siblings of the pair and always forced to tag along, inevitably became great friends. But we didn't have the same relationship. Arashi and Itake were like brothers from another mother, as they attempted to refer to it. They shared everything, thought alike, never argued, joined the same teams, got the same grades, and had a friendly competitiveness between them. Soma and me? We had something totally different.

Soma and I were good friends, sure, best friends even. But we weren't like our older brothers. While Itake and Arashi enjoyed everything the same way, Soma and I shared different opinions on many things. For instance, he wanted to train every day for at least two hours, while I was content to take a day off here and there, which was why we'd gotten into an argument before. He liked spicy ramen—I preferred plain, non-hot noodles. He thought that the role of the Hokage should be kept in the family, and I always insisted it should go to the person who would best suit the position.

Sure, we hung out all the time and cared a lot for each other, but when you came right down to it, we were complete opposites on most concerns. And it made it worse that I had such a terrible crush on him, and that he was bound to be a great ninja while I was going to be stuck with lowly positions, like teaching at the academy or something. No greatness came to those who didn't possess great bloodlines and the traits of their bloodlines. Naruto and Sakura were amazing ninja—therefore, Arashi and Soma had inherited their determination, grit, and brains. Me? I'd gotten nothing. Maybe stubbornness from my mom, irritability from my dad, but nothing else. Just plain old boring Mikoto with nothing going for her other than a famous mama and a frightening daddy.

I sighed heavily, looking disdainfully at the plate full of food in front of me. I was so tired—I couldn't even register what was on the chinaware. It was blurry around the edges and looked a little yellow, or maybe brown. Whatever. I just needed sleep, as usual.

Arashi and Itake had already washed up and taken their seats and were gobbling up as much food as possible when Dad finally walked in.

The room suddenly hushed for a split second, then the two older boys' chatter broke the silence, Mom gave Dad a hug and a kiss (a real kiss that made me want to gag, really), Soma greeted him with a quick wave and a "hello," and I stayed quiet. Dad sat down across from me, next to Itake, and Mom sat down on his other side after bringing their two plates over. I watched my hand make my fork push my unrecognizable food around my plate, trying not to look up and have to face my Dad. But he cleared his throat, and Soma nudged me with his elbow, forcing me to glace at him.

He was staring at me, those black eyes focused on mine, with an unrecognizable expression. Mom gave him a quick look, her hazel eyes soft and warm, which probably meant that whatever expression he had on his face (since she could read him like a book) represented something good, not bad. Or maybe he was attempting to be sympathetic. Yeah, Dad, sympathetic? I don't think so. Even Itake was giving him funny looks.

I shifted uneasily as I met his steady gaze, and he pursed his lips.

"Are you okay, Mikoto?" he asked in this strange tone that I'd never heard him use before. "How are your eyes?"

Of course. Abrupt, as always. "Fine. Why?" I knew why—they were still living under the assumption that I was going blind, and going blind fast. Yeah, definitely not gonna happen. "I'm fine, Dad."

He shook his head. "No you're not. You're going to go blind, Mikoto, and you need to understand that. I don't care how upset you are about this and how far in denial you've already gone, but you're going to have to accept that you are going to be blind very, very soon and learn to live with it."

Everyone at the table was silent. This was a long, long speech for Dad, since we normally received an "Ah" or an "Un" in response, something we'd learned to interpret from age two. Dad was still staring at me, and I flinched at the hardness in his gaze. He wasn't going to be taking any crap today. I knew I had better listen to him and just fake it, because soon enough they would see that I was not going blind.

"Okay, Dad," I whispered.

"And don't you think about your abilities," he added, glaring now. "You're going to live just as normal as possible without your sight."

I was just about to nod when Itake muttered under his breath, "And her Sharingan."

"Itake!" Dad said loudly, but I'd already heard him. My big brother thought I was going to be a failure, too. My father already knew it, my mom was still encouraging me, but the two most important figures in my life had already written me off as a mistake, someone that would never get anywhere.

I stood up from the table, slammed my chair backwards, and headed for the kitchen door. Mom called after me, and I heard her stand up to come after me, and someone else did, too. I heard Dad's voice holler for me to come back and we'd talk this all out, but that wasn't going to happen. I wasn't going to stay long enough to hear it. Mustering up as much speed as I had, as much Uchiha nerve that ran in my useless veins, I darted off into the trees, hoping to put as long of a distance between myself and my family.

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**okie doke, there u have it, she's gone. Up and left to go on her own adventure, to deal with her quickly coming blindness. So...yah, I hope you enjoyed it. I'll update ASAP, and sine Thanksgiving is nxt week, I mght b abl 2. Oh, sorry, i was txting and typing. Lol. There I go again. I luv txt msng. Hahaha. Sorry, had to do that. **

**Anywho, REVIEW!**

**Luv much**

**nicola**


	5. The Red Clouds

**Yeah, I know, finally, right? Lol. So here's chapter five. It's a little short, but I promise the others will be longer. It's Christmas, and I've been insanely busy. And my other story that I'm working on has been calling me to it daily, no matter how hard I resist the need to type it!!! So...sorry, lol. But here you go. And you get to see how others react to her running away**

**Luv much,**

**Nicola**

**Disclaimer: You know the drill by now**

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Chapter Five: The Red Clouds 

Remember when you were a little kid, not even eight years old yet? I do. Remember what it was like when you were scared, angry, and frustrated, and throwing a temper tantrum got you nowhere, so all you were able to do was sulk? And then Mommy or Daddy would come and give you a hug and tell you everything was going to be alright and you had nothing to worry about? Then everything would be all better and tears were forgotten and you ran off to go play some more.

I really, really wished I could have felt that way again.

Running through the trees, my hated family behind me, my heart ached for the simplicity of being a child. Even if I had never really gotten to be much of a little kid, what with my family's name to live up to and all, I still held dear the memories of the times I'd acted like a little kid, been able to live with the idea that all in the world was wonderful and nothing could ever harm me. Playing ball in the back yard, chasing Itake around the house, tugging on the cat's tail, playing "ninja" with Soma and the other kids our age, all those great things. When had all that disappeared?

With the tears streaming down my face, dripping off my chin, I couldn't think straight. I couldn't even remember why I was running away, only that there was something wrong with home, something keeping it from being an actual home. I found myself drifting, thinking that I was in another game of chase with my friends, before they'd abandoned me when they'd found out I wasn't going to have the Sharingan and be all powerful like them. No, wait, that had been Itake and Dad; Soma had only been frustrated because of my lack of the need to train every single day.

Before, I'd tried to count the number of branches I'd landed on, but I'd lost track ten minutes ago. Now I was running blind, no pun intended, my vision blurred by what I insistently told myself were tears. I didn't know where I was going, what I was supposed to do when I got there, or what my family was going to do. Dad would run after me, give up after a while, and ground Itake until I returned, which was not going to happen any time soon. Mom would flip, throw herself into missions and train as hard as she could, even though she was already an extremely strong ninja. And Soma and his family? They'd probably engross themselves in the search, give up after a few days, and go back to their normal lives. If only someone would care, I figured,

Before long, my legs began to quiver with exhaustion and I stopped. One look around told me that I was nearing the monumental Valley of the End, where Dad and Naruto had fought so many years ago when Dad had tried to leave the village, and succeeded. Where Uchiha Madara and one of the Hokage's, I couldn't remember which, had battled it out forever and a half ago. The battle was said to have shook the entire Earth, and created the Valley. The two would have had to be incredibly strong ninjas to crack the rocks and mud and whatever else is down there, creating the humongous Valley.

I took several deep, shaky breaths to calm myself, blinked a few times to clear my vision, and set off running again, only this time at a slower pace. I took my time, looking at the surrounding are that I'd traveled on many, many times with my parents or my older brother. The trees, bushes, the rocks, they were all familiar. At least I knew where I was, I thought bitterly as my feet hit the hard, crackling surface of another tree branch. The bark made snapping sounds, but I knew I had nothing to worry about. The bark may be old and worn, but the rest of the tree wasn't, and it certainly was not going to break apart with my momentary weight. But I did slip, and would have plummeted thirteen feet to the ground had I not been paying attention enough to focus my chakra into my toes, forcing myself to stay hooked to the tree, even if I was hanging upside down.

I blew a breath through my lips in an expression of relief. At least I hadn't fallen on my head and cracked open my skull. That wouldn't have been good. Not in the least.

So, once I was right-side up and running again, I didn't allow my mind to ponder about the stability of branches. Instead, I mulled over what I was supposed to do when I got wherever I was going. Of course, the first idea that popped into my head was to find Uchiha Madara and have him give me the Sharingan. Then my better sense took over, scolded my imagination for having even thought of thinking about Madara, and reminded it that Madara was long dead, and even if he were alive, what would he have to do with lowly Uchiha Mikoto?

I tried to focus on more realistic things, coming to the conclusion that finding shelter and a source of food and water would be the first—and best—thing to do. The Valley of the End was full of fresh running water, the one thing I could already check off my list. Besides, Sakura had once taught me how to draw water out of the earth and purify it using chakra, so it wouldn't be much of a problem either way. I guessed that she'd learned the skill during the whole Sound takeover thing, but how was I supposed to know? Maybe Tsunade taught it to her sometime.

Food would be another problem. Survival skills weren't my strong point, but I knew pretty much what I was doing. Dad had put both me and my brother through rigorous survival training at a young age. I remembered being told that we were going to be staying in the woods for a few days, and that it would just be the two of us. I hadn't understood why Dad was making us camp out by ourselves, but being the near-Chunin that I was, I'd went along with it and walked alongside my brother.

Itake had known a bit more about it than me, so I'd let him teach me how to build a fire, how to lure fish up to the surface of the water to catch them with ease, how to angle a kunai just right so that it killed the target (mainly rabbit) in one swift strike, how to skin the rabbit and cook it over the fire until it was edible. Then he'd let me do it by myself. Let me tell you: killing, field dressing, then eating an animal was not the highlight of anyone's life. Okay, so I'd cried the first time, but by the second day I was an ace at it and didn't even bat an eyelash.

Which is why, in my current situation, I didn't panic or fret over the lack of obvious food. There were other ways to survive without the comforts of a home life. But by now, my stomach was already growling, and since I'd forgotten (like an idiot) to restock my kunai pouch and bring it with me, I was without any weaponry. Good thing I knew how to carve a stick into a sharp-tipped spear.

Oh the situations I managed to get into.

With a light sniffle to push back the tears I just knew were coming, I leapt onto the last branch before the Valley came into view, and sighed. It was so beautiful.

The two carvings of Uchiha Madara and the First Hokage stood ominously facing each other on opposite sides of the Valley. Both wore the traditional war clothes of their day—both wore determined, angry expressions on their faces. In my mind, I could picture the two fighting it out, at each others throats with every jutsu and tactic they could muster up. Maybe that was what Dad and Naruto had been like all those years ago. Both stubborn, both determined to help the other, in some small way. Dad could have killed Naruto, but he hadn't, letting him live. By doing that, he'd helped his old friend. And by fighting to keep Dad from making one of the biggest mistakes of his life, Naruto had done Dad a favor, showing him that his friends still cared, someone still cared about him.

If only Dad had listened, the idiot.

Who was I to be talking, though? I was the idiot without the Sharingan, without the natural ability to beat every single opponent without flinching. I was the one who ran away from problematic situations. So why was I calling my father an idiot? He didn't make me this way—it was just how I was. And it was my own damn fault.

I ignored the two huge, looming stone carvings and leapt down to the pool of water beneath the waterfall. Greedily I scooped up some water and drank with a thirst I hadn't even known I'd had. The cool liquid felt so good in my dry, pasty mouth. Once my thirst was quenched, I thought of what I should do next. I wasn't hungry, I wasn't thirsty anymore, and I was still depressed. Hmm. Maybe there were some natural anti-depressants out here…

With a sigh (probably my millionth one of the past two days), I lay back on the sand lining the small lake and studied the clouds above my face. Uncle Shikamaru had taught me the different meanings of the shapes clouds took. He had told me once that the colors of clouds held the most powerful meanings. A white cloud represented a positive omen, that something good was going to happen, and pinks were new beginnings. And dark clouds were signs of something bad. One of the worst was a skull, which meant that death was certain.

As I stared at the clouds, I was able to make out the shape of a bird, not one of those huge birds that you see devouring an animal on the side of the road, but a small dainty songbird, one that would sing outside your window in a fairy tale. I racked my brains to remember what it meant, because I know Shikamaru had told me a hundred times over. I used to see it all the time.

He'd said something like it meant that the person seeing it had a great desire for achievement or acknowledgement or recognition. One time in particular, probably the tenth time I'd seen the little bird-shaped cloud, Shikamaru had rolled over and looked at me, a curious expression on his face. I hadn't understood it then, but now I did. From then on, he'd decided to call me Little Pájaro, some Spanish word meaning bird. Little bird. And now, I knew what it meant.

I'd been the little bird, the tiny little bird wanting someone to recognize her talents. No wonder.

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Kaede paced back and forth in the kitchen, not knowing whether to strangle her son or to punch him in the gut. Or maybe a little lower, now that she thought about it. He was such an idiot, just like his father had been at his age. Kami, how she'd like to take him by the throat and shake him until some sense got through that thick skull of his. But Sasuke would stop her if she tried, damn it.

"I can't believe you," she finally said, shaking her head so that her hair flew around her face. "What would ever make you say something like that to your sister? Huh? What did she do to you?"

She looked to Sasuke for some back up, but he was staring forlornly into the wall, apparently lost in his own thoughts. He was no help. She groaned and took two long strides until she and Itake were face to face. Being this close to her son, the one that looked so much like her husband, nearly freaked her out. It almost brought her back to the days during the war, when she'd snuck around to be with the black-haired traitor. He had the same black eyes, the same hair, the same rare smile. The only difference was the obvious fear whitening his face.

"Yeah, you'd better be afraid," she hissed under her breath. "Because if you don't find your sister then you're going to regret ever being born, do you understand?"

When Itake nodded fervently, she rounded on Sasuke. Probably feeling the heat in her glare, Sasuke turned his head to stare evenly back at her. She vaguely heard Itake run out of the kitchen with Arashi and Soma at his heels, but chose to ignore it. Itake knew how much trouble he was in—he wasn't going to screw up this time. If he did, she would personally show him what the underside of her boot looked like.

Still glaring at her husband, she caught sight of a picture out of the corner of her eye. She recognized it immediately as an impromptu family portrait from a long time ago. That day, Naruto had come over for lunch (ramen, of course), with his camera. He'd wanted a picture of the lot of them so he could look at them while eating his favorite food. So they'd tried lining up, which never worked well in their family. Itake'd been in a bad mood, wanting nothing more than to annoy the hell out of his parents. He had proceeded to yank on Kaede's hair, kick dirt on his sister's shoes, and poke Sasuke in the back and pull on his pants until they were halfway down his hips. Of course, Sasuke had stood there as stoic as ever and completely ignored the fact that his son was slowly pulling his pants down to his ankles.

The picture consisted of Kaede comforting her weeping daughter with the dirty shoes and grabbing her son by the back of his jeans, Itake pulling the pants off of his father, and Sasuke staring blankly ahead of him as if this chaos were not going on around him. He hated that picture, she knew, and it made her want to smile at the thought of his expression every time he walked by it. She didn't smirk, though, because she was currently in a stare-down with her husband and was starting to get angry.

Sasuke could tell that her temper was burning, she knew, so she forced herself to look as serene as possible. Time was wasting away. Poor Mikoto could be halfway out of the village by now, or even further. No normal teenage girl would actually run away and leave the village, but Mikoto was far from normal. She was like her mother—brash, impulsive, and sensitive. And she had a temper, and speed. Their chances of catching her and convincing her to come home were slimming with each passing minute. Kaede would be damned if she lost her daughter over a father's stupidity and a brother's idiocy.

Finally, Sasuke sighed and said, "I don't' feel like fighting this out with you right now."

"Good," she said easily, walking up to him, arms crossed, and glowering tenfold than what she'd been glaring before. "Because I don't, either. So you know what we're going to do? No, what you're going to do?" She didn't wait for an answer. "You are going to go over to the Hokage Temple, find Naruto and Sakura, then find Kakashi and recruit them all in a search for your daughter."

"Oh, really?"

Alright, there they went again, she thought bitterly. Her hand lashed out and latched onto Sasuke's arm. She gripped it tightly as she said, "Yes, really, you are. Because it's your damn fault she ran off like that!"

"How is it my fault?" Sasuke wanted to know, his voice dangerously low. "I was home all the time, remember? I raised the kids while you were out on missions."

Kaede growled low in her throat and moved her hand from his arm to the front of his shirt. She yanked him to his feet and snarled, "At least I didn't favor one child over the other. At least I showed compassion instead of hatred. At least I cared enough to tell our kids that they were both amazing. At least I love our daughter, and never gave her the impression that she was worthless."

"Are you saying that I did?" Sasuke snapped, and Kaede smirked.

"Bingo." She held her fist up to keep him from retorting, and went on, "No matter what she does to try and please you, you look down on her and insist that she's a lower being that will never amount to anything. She thinks you don't care. And sometimes," her voice faltered, "I wonder if you don't."

She let his shirt go and turned towards the door. "Never mind. I'll go get Naruto and them myself. You say here in case she comes home."

As she walked out the door, she heard someone coming up behind her. She looked over her shoulder, smiled, and held out her hand. Sasuke took it without hesitation, and they both took off running for the Temple, to get some help in finding their daughter.

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Naruto and Sakura listened intently to Kaede, taking in every word and the seriousness of the situation. Mikoto was missing—and she'd been gone for at least half an hour, probably more. Sakura could understand why Kaede was frantic. Teenage girls weren't the most stable of creatures. Oh, sure, they were more stable than teenage boys, but they had their moments. They were emotional, brash, and impulsive. When a teenage girl got into a mood, you could only wait it out.

"Of course we'll help," Sakura agreed immediately, once Kaede had finished her spiel. "Since the boys are already out looking, I'll try and catch up with them. Naruto," she turned to her husband, whose face was grim, "you think of where you'd go if you were upset."

"I'd go kill the idiot who made me upset," Naruto snarled, and shot Sasuke an angry glare. "Because I don't take to bullies." Sakura put a calming hand on his arm, and he relaxed, but his scowl didn't.

Sakura could tell that Sasuke was already feeling pretty bad and didn't need Naruto helping him out any. "You know what?" She looked between the two, and, remembering something her sensei had once told her, she motioned for Sasuke to step forward. "Sasuke, you're going to be helping Naruto. Between the two of you, you should be able to figure out where she might go. She's your daughter, Sasuke, and you've known her since birth, Naruto." With a smile, Sakura looked at Kaede. "Okay, girl, let's go."

She and Kaede hurried out of the kitchen and set off at a screamingly fast run. They linked arms so that they would stay together and at the same speed (a trick they'd learned to use during missions), and dodged around trees. They'd stick to the path. Most likely the boys would have split up. Soma would go with his older brother, and Itake would head off by himself.

"Crap!" Kaede gasped, and stopped running. Sakura was jerked to a halt beside her and nearly lost her balance.

"What's the matter?"

"I forgot to get Kakashi," Kaede muttered, and looked over her shoulder as if contemplating returning and finding Kakashi.

"Naruto and Sasuke will get him, I promise," Sakura soothed, and tried to tug the nervous mother forward. It took a good bit of strength, but she got her going.

"You're right," Kaede agreed as they sprinted off down the path again. "Sasuke knows we'll need him and his dogs. He'll get him. I hope."

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I was still cloud gazing.

In the back of my mind, I knew that it would only be a matter of time before a search party set off, and, if Kakashi was heading it, I'd be found out quickly. But I had some tricks up my sleeve, too. I did not want to be discovered; I wanted to stay out here by myself and live without worrying about the opinions of others whose approval I sought. It was nice out here in the middle of nowhere, with nothing but the rustling leaves and rippling water to greet me. I could live peacefully by this lake, and never be disturbed.

Right here, in the Valley of the End, was where I wanted to be.

Whenever I was upset with myself, angry that I had been unable to please my father once again, I would run to this field in the middle of the woods behind the Uchiha district and lay down on the grass. Shikamaru had taught me that cloud watching could make you feel better, so I always tried it. And it always worked. Except that it put me to sleep every time. And when I slept, I dreamed.

I dreamt of a place lined with trees, small bushes speckled with edible berries, and with a huge body of water in the middle. I would run and jump into the water, swim for hours and hours, forgetting about all my troubles. In that place, I could run faster than anyone, hit harder than Sakura, and I had the most powerful Sharingan in the world. There were no disapproving fathers or brothers, no encouraging mothers, no ignorant boys with pink hair. There was only me. Me, myself, and I secluded in a literal paradise, worry free, not a care in the world.

And then I would get the idea in my head to swim across the water. But I'd never be able to. No matter how hard I swam, no matter how long and how much chakra I pumped into my arms and legs to keep me going, the other side was unreachable. I could see it, but I couldn't reach it. It was only fifteen more strokes away, then twenty, getting further and further away until land was a strip of tan the size of a piece of string. My stomach would plummet to the bottom of the water, and my amazing dream would turn into a nightmare.

Then, I'd wake up in a cold sweat, the fear of drowning, the feel of the water pressing against me from all sides, filling my lungs no matter how hard I tried to breath, numbing my skin, making me feel like I was floating on pin-prickly air. Needless to say, after a few weeks of this dream, I never returned to that field. And I only had that dream one other time, when my father had been exceptionally cruel to me. He'd actually pushed me against a wall, got in my face and, with his Sharingan on, told me how worthless I was and that I was never going to be anything in this world. He'd said I would never amount to anything; I was useless and meant nothing to him. It stung something terrible, and from then on, whenever I was around him, I treaded as carefully as if I were walking on a bed of sizzling coal.

Mom didn't know about this little incident, and I'd sworn to myself never to tell her, no matter how much I thought about it. When I looked at my dad, I saw the anger in his face that day, the disappointment in his red and black eyes. There was no moving on after that. I'd basically given up trying to be strong. Once he'd told me what he though, I tried to forget about gaining his approval. But it was still there. I still yearned to have him be proud of me. There had not been a day when he'd looked at me with pride in his eyes.

Not one.

Above me, the clouds were changing shades. I ignored them, and the slight blurring around the edges of my eyes. I wasn't going to pay attention to it. There was nothing wrong with me. My parents, Sakura, everyone, were wrong. I was not going blind. I was just a huge disappointment of an Uchiha. Without the Sharingan, I was nothing.

I closed my eyes for a moment, willing the blurriness to go away. I could already feel cold dread creeping into my stomach, and it wasn't pleasant. It was rather uncomfortable, actually. It made me feel as if there was a sense of impending doom, and if I opened my eyes I'd see exactly what was going to happen to me. Or not see.

When I finally mustered up the courage to open my eyes, I gasped. The clouds were no longer the cheery white they'd been before. Now, they were a deep, blood red, like the sky when someone was put through the Illusionary Underworld Moon. I knew the meaning of the colors of clouds, and right now, the cold dread seeped straight to my heart. Red clouds weren't good.

Red clouds meant there was an impending, overwhelming change expected to happen in the near future. Dad's words rang in my ears. _"You're going blind, and you're going blind fast." _Maybe he hadn't been imagining it. Maybe I was the one being stupid and ignorant, turning my face from the truth the whole time. Maybe…maybe I was going blind.

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**Phew. Finally she admits it. I was getting a little exasperated with her, you know, being all stubborn. Stupid little annoying voice in my head...sorry. My characters are like little people in my mind who talk and say, "write this" and comment on EVERYTHING. Sounds crazy, but it does help me get a feel for how they'd react in certain situations, since they tell me about it. **

**But review, please. MERRY CHRISTMAS, HAPPY HOLIDAYS!!!**

**Luv much**

**Nicola**

(Oh, and go read my other story, Bouryokudan Hearts, because I said so, and it's REALLY GOOD!)


	6. Father and Daughter

**Hey guys. Here is (finally) the next chapter to Blind Uchiha Beauty. Phew, it took me FOREVER to write it, and it's a little bit short, only a page or two on Word off of what I normally write, but I got it to the stopping point sooner than I expected. So here you go!**

**Disclaiimer: Der-der-der, you know what it is**

**Luv much  
Nicola**

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Chapter Six: Father and Daughter 

Sasuke looked anxiously about him, searching for any sign of his missing daughter. Poor Mikoto, running around by herself, all alone trying to figure out what was really wrong with her. He could only see her face right now, imagining her in the trees, behind a bush, everywhere. But she wasn't there. And it was his job to find her for real and bring her home.

Everywhere he looked, he saw her black hair billowing about her pale face, her sad little frown she always wore, the melancholy look in her dull, ashen eyes. He saw the downcast gaze she put on whenever she was around him, and the sad shuffle of her feet when he put her down. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to forget all of the horrible things he'd said to her, but they wouldn't let him. He kept hearing over and over again how he'd called her weak, told her she was never going to be as strong as her brother, commented on her inability to perform taijustu as well at Itake. Damn, what a horrible father he was.

Next to him ran Kaede, his wife, his longtime love, and just looking at her told him she was angry with him, too. She mostly blamed him for their daughters split second decision to take off to Kami knows where. And he could honestly say that it was probably all his fault, if not the majority of it. He was the one with the attitude problem, the inability to understand anything that his daughter was trying to tell him. Sure, he knew he loved his little girl, because that's what she was—his little girl, his baby. But he still treated her like his father had treated him.

He remembered growing up to the sound of everyone around him praising his brother, the amazing Itachi, the Uchiha prodigy, the perfect son, etcetera, etcetera. Of course, he'd always looked up to Itachi, seen him as a wonderful older brother who cared so much for his family. One of the reasons he'd always encouraged Itake to be so good to his sister was because of what had happened with his own brother. For those few years, the small moments when Itachi had shown Sasuke compassion, it had been bliss. Then, the massacre had happened.

Sasuke could hardly stand to think about it, after all these years. But every time he tried to focus on something else, his daughter's face popped up, right next to his father's and Itachi's. Poor Mikoto…she was such a sweet girl, always had been. Lately, though, he'd seen a change in her that his wife told him he was stupid never to have seen before. She was distant, hesitant, like she was walking on a paper thin sheet of ice over a bed of nails. It was only around him, too. When he managed to sneak a peak at her when she was hanging around with her brother or Kaede or any of her friends, she was exuberant and bright-eyed and brave.

Around him, though, she acted as if she were waiting for him to strike out and hit her or something. He would never hurt her in any way, at least, not knowingly. She had no reason to be nervous. He'd go so far as to say that she was more than cautious and nervous—she was frightened. And once he'd started realizing this, he'd noticed the shade of her eyes.

Growing up with Uchiha's had taught him to understand the way the Sharingan worked, what to look for when someone showed the ability to possess the legendary ability. After reading what was under the seventh Tatami mat, where the Uchiha clan had used to meet secretly, he'd learned and understood everything about Sharingan, absolutely everything. Why he hadn't noticed what was wrong with his daughter, he couldn't fathom. But he knew now. He'd first noticed the trademark dullness in her eyes a few days ago. It was a sign that he had read about, a sign that pointed towards permanent blindness. Hayato had only confirmed his suspicions.

And now, here he was, looking for his little girl, lost and disoriented and going blind. He had no idea where she would go, but he did know that he was going to find her even if it killed him. Horrific thoughts kept flashing through his mind—Itachi getting a hold of her, Orochimaru convincing her to come with him, someone else from his past popping up out of nowhere and taking her with them.

"Kaede," he said suddenly, an idea forming in his quickly calculating mind, "What's the one place you would go if you were upset?"

Smirking, Kaede took hardly a second to answer. "The Valley."

"We aren't anywhere near it," Sasuke muttered, and cursed under his breath. "Dammit. Kaede, you keep going this way, okay? I'm going to go back and try to catch up with the team who's heading in that direction." He grabbed her hand and she stopped, looking proudly up at him.

"Go get our little baby home," she whispered, and he kissed her quickly before disappearing, running at an ungodly speed.



I couldn't do it. I just couldn't.

Once it had hit me that I probably was going blind (after I'd realized that, hello, my dad always told me the straight-up truth) I could not work up the courage to open up my eyes to the truth. Literally. For the past hour I'd been sitting with my eyes closed, petrified that if I opened them there wouldn't be any change, that I would see only the empty, black darkness, the unending colorless space of time I'd forever be trapped in. I would never see the sky again; see my brother smile or my dad sneer, or my mom give Dad the goo-goo eyes that I'd always hated. What kind of life would that be?

Okay, I told myself, hitting the hard ground irritably with my fist. I was going to open my eyes. Now! Nope, nothing. Alright, now! Still, my eyes stayed shut tight and refused to budge. I couldn't will them open, apparently. So what if I wanted to see? It didn't' necessarily mean that I was going to. Right? So then what was the point of opening my eyes if I wasn't necessarily going to see the sky and the water and the two statues?

Confounded even further, I sighed heavily and lifted my hands to my eyes, physically forcing them open. For a moment, I felt a scream rising in my throat as nothing around me came into view. There was just the empty hollow blackness I was mortified to see. Fear coursed through me, several long seconds passing before the scream actually reached the tip of my tongue. And then, just before I could shriek, everything came into view. The rocks, the trees, the water, the sky, the clouds, the two rock formations of the two greatest ninjas, and the pale color of my own skin. The only difference was the dull sheen to it all, the way it all looked slightly fuzzy and almost colorless. But I could still see it—it was all there.

Breathing a sigh of relief, I ran a hand through my black hair and leaned back, staring at the darkening sky. No, it wasn't darkening because I was going blind, but because of the time of day. The sky was turning into a glassy mixture of pink, orange, yellow, and blue. White clouds glowing pink around the edges whooshed silently across the setting sun, and I formed a mental picture of this moment, saving it for later, when it would be taken from me. It was all so unjust, though. It wasn't right. For so long I had taken my vision for granted, for so long I'd been able to see everything, and now…even against my strongest will, I was going blind.

And no matter how hard I tried to make myself believe it wasn't true, it wouldn't work. Because every time I opened my eyes and looked around, I saw everything blurry, dull, the bright colors blunt compared to what they used to be. And on top of it all I still wasn't sure what I was going to do. I'd already drank from the pool of water at the end of the waterfall, fished and cooked with a little fire that had quickly distinguished itself, only lasting long enough for me to make the small fish edible.

With the sunrise still pictured in my head, I sat up and ran my fingers through my hair, untangling it and picking at all the knots that had formed over the day. It was so soft and smooth once brushed; I knew most of the girls my age envied me for it. They were always primping and fixing themselves up for the boys, but I wasn't like that. I preferred to work at my skills, my faults, and surpassing them. While they sprayed their hair down with hairspray and fluffed it up, I trained and sparred and performed jutsu after jutsu after jutsu, trying to be perfect. They never understood why I worked so hard—but I knew. My dad was the reason.

I started to braid my hair, closing my eyes and letting my fingers do the work. In the darkness that I knew would soon take over (hopefully not too soon), I could picture things that had happened in the past, happy memories that I always kept close to my heart whenever I was down. And now, I was at my lowest.

One of the memories I loved the most was the one when Mom had been out on another mission (she'd been gone a lot during our early years) and I'd been playing with Soma and Itake and Arashi outside. Being stupidly clumsy even then, I had fallen over my own feet and landed in a mud puddle. I'd come up covered in mud and dirt, and had to face the laughs of Itake and Arashi, telling me that I was stupid and ugly and couldn't even walk down the road without falling. Crying, I'd run inside, vaguely hearing Soma yelling at our older siblings to shut up and leave me alone.

Dad (then Daddy to me) had grabbed me up halfway through the living room, looking concerned, and carted me off to the bathroom where he cleaned me up and dressed me in a fresh pair of pajamas. We'd sat in the living room, on the floor, me in front of him sitting between his feet. He brushed my hair, telling me how pretty it was and how pretty I was. And then, awkward as it must have been for him, he'd started to braid my hair into little braids, only a few strands in each braid. Carefully he went about it, being gentle and particular about each one. And he'd said that I should just ignore my brother because he was jealous of me, jealous that I was cuter than him. But I wasn't supposed to say that—Itake would only get more upset.

So now, as I braided my hair by myself, feeling the ache in my heart getting stronger and stronger, I tried to keep that memory in mind, holding it there and replaying it over and over. I pretended that it wasn't my hands braiding my hair, but my father's, back again as a little mud-covered child, crying because her older brother and her older brother's fried were picking on her for tripping.

It felt nice, thinking that Dad still cared enough about me to braid my hair and tell me I was the prettiest little girl in the whole world, simply because I was his little girl. Oh, how I wished I could go back and live in those days again. Dad and I had been so close. What happened to make our relationship so strained?

I sighed and put my hands on either side of me, my hair braided. I reluctantly opened my eyes, greeted by the darkness that sent fear through me. In a moment, though, the dark lightened up, and I could see the scenery. I should have felt relieved, but I didn't. I only felt more fear. Where there should have been blue and brown and white and green and yellow was only gray. Everything was a different shade of gray. At the realization that all the colors were missing, I gasped and my hand flew to my chest, as if it alone could stop the rapid pounding of my heart.

This was happening too fast, too soon. I didn't want to lose my sight, not yet. I'd only just begun to come to terms with it! What kind of world was this? What kind of cruel maker was there that took one of life's most precious gifts away from me? It wasn't fair! It seemed that life was out to get me. Yes, I was wallowing in self pity, and yes, it could have been a lot worse. But to me, losing the color of things was almost as bad as losing them completely. What was the point of seeing something if the bright shades couldn't be determined?

Swallowing hard, I stood up on shaky legs and walked over to the edge of the water, staring down at my reflection. I looked absolutely horrified, and I had a right to be. My clouded eyes were wide and frightened, my mouth agape, my forehead creased in worry. The only thing I could focus on that wouldn't scare me further were the braids falling around my face. When I looked at them, I could think about Dad and his soft voice as he told me how wonderful I was.

Even that didn't last long, though, because the moment I remembered how kind he used to be, I remembered how cruel he was. And then…and then I just became more upset. My father hated me, my big brother thought I was a failure, my best friend was disappointed in me, and now I was going blind. Damn this stupid world!

I hadn't realized I'd cursed the world out loud until I saw the birds perched on a rock several yards away fly up and away with loud squawks. As I glared after their retreating figures, I heard something in the trees behind me. It was rustling, brushing, whooshing noises. Turning my head, I blinked my malfunctioning eyes and squinted through the trees. My hearing was acute, and from the distant sound to the noise, I figured whatever it was, was pretty far away, and gaining. And it wasn't just one—there were more, maybe four or five.

"Shit," I muttered, looking around for anywhere that I could hide. They were shinobi from my village, coming to find me and take me home. I didn't want to go home, and they weren't going to get me as long as I could see and take care of myself. Spying a small dip in the rock formations, I made my way towards it and carefully slid down, finding that it was a cave that went underneath the pool of water. I could hear the rushing of the water above my head as I sat crouched there, staying as silent as possible.

I depended solely on my hearing to tell me how far away the shinobi were, and as they grew closer I could hear them talking amongst themselves. I recognized two voices right away—one was my Aunt Miki (not really my Aunt but my mother's longtime best friend), and the other was Donovan, Miki's son and Arana's twin brother. They were discussing something about dinner, which I thought was odd considering that they were out looking for me. And then, I heard a third voice that made my heart nearly do somersaults.

Soma was with them, firmly reminding them that there was a missing person that they needed to find. I felt my heart swell at the sound of my name coming out of his mouth. Yes, I was a bubbly teenager whenever around Soma, but he was just such an amazing, handsome, strong, loyal, loving guy. It would be impossible not to have a crush on him. And in my current situation, hearing his voice made me feel better than I had in days.

But I couldn't come out of my hiding spot, no matter how much I wanted to run out and hug him and have him tell me everything was going to be alright. I couldn't go back; I couldn't go face my father, my brother, the fact that I would never be a ninja, never fight again. I had pretty much forfeited my position in ANBU, my title of Jounin, and my reputation as a decent shinobi. There was nothing left for me to go back to.

And yet…when Soma and the others (the fourth whom I couldn't recognize, since they hadn't spoken yet), I found it extremely hard to stay still and stay quiet. That is, until I heard the fourth person speak to his teammates.

The moment the first word came out of his mouth, I knew it was my father. And I knew that I had hardly any chance of escaping capture. With Miki's and Donovan's eyes, Dad's Sharingan, and Soma's strange ability to sense when I was near, I was bound to be found out. I shut my eyes tight, forgetting that every time I had closed my eyes so far, I'd opened them to a further development of my blindness.

"Mikoto!" Soma called out, walking closer to my hiding spot. "Where are you? Mikoto, come out, please! We're worried about you!"

They were worried about me. Not him, they. I cringed and didn't try to stop the grief that was washing over me. Why would I even think that Soma would care? He was just a friend, a brother to me, nothing more. I heard him call my name over and over; his voice mixing with everyone else's except for my father's. He kept getting closer, closer, closer to my little cave. And I still didn't realize that keeping my eyes closed was a dangerous thing.

"Please, Mikoto! Come out! Let's go home!"

I ignored Donovan's calls.

"Mikoto, honey, your mother is upset, she's so worried!"

Forget about Miki, I told myself.

"Please!"

Soma didn't matter.

All these voices, calling my name, telling me to come home, reminding me how I was upsetting everyone, reminding me that I was a failure, that this was only proving it. And yet I couldn't make myself come out. This was the only defiant thing I'd ever done in my life, and I was not about to let go of it. That is, until another voice called out.

"Mikoto," Dad said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper, "Come home, Mikoto. We miss you. We love you. We—I need you home, Mikoto."

I felt myself moving towards the cave entrance, my eyes still closed. I could sense the dim light behind my eyelids, but I didn't dare open them. Dad's voice, quiet but there, kept ringing in my ears. He needed me. He missed me. He loved me. Did he really? Or was he only saying that to get me out? Whatever it was, it worked, because I burst into the cool, darkening twilight, my eyes still firmly shut from the world.

At first, I still heard their calls, their desperate attempts to make me reveal myself and come home. I heard Donovan and Miki and Soma, my wonderful friend Soma, trying to beckon me out. They knew how dangerous it was for me to be out here by myself, when I was going blind. And although some small part of me still believed that I was always going to have my sight, I knew it was true. I was going blind, and there was nothing I could do about it. I was being childish, trying to take my anger out by running away, trying to make my family understand what I was feeling by escaping. It was stupid; something a child would do, not a shinobi, not a proud ninja.

"Dad," I whispered, and the voices stopped. Eyes, of course, closed against whatever might be waiting for me when I opened them, I stumbled forward, tripping over some rock that I hadn't known was there before. Strong arms caught me, and I immediately recognized them. Soma had once again stopped me before I fell to the ground in another of my frequently occurring clumsy moments.

"Mikoto," he breathed, sounding relieved and anxious at the same time. "Are you okay? Mikoto, can you see me? Please tell me that you can see me."

I laughed at his stupidity. Couldn't he tell that my eyes were closed and of course I wouldn't be able to see him? "I can't see you, silly! My eyes are closed, duh!"

Having expected agreeing murmurs and chuckles, I was shocked when no one said anything, and Soma (I knew it was him because I recognized what his hands felt like) reached up to touch my eyes. He brushed his thumb just above my eye, just under my eyebrow. It was then that I blinked, closing my eyes for a split second and opening them again—nothing changed. It took a few moments of silence, no one moving or speaking, before I realized it. I was completely blind, just like that.

Tears filled my broken eyes, spilling over and pouring down my face. Only a few minutes ago, or maybe hours, I had seen the sky, the water, the setting sun, the trees and the grass and the dirt and the leaves and the birds and the fish and the yellow of my little fire, and the gray statues on either side of the waterfall. I couldn't be blind already—I hadn't seen Soma's face again, or anyone's face again. And now I never would. I kept blinking, kept rubbing at my eyes as if I could erase the blindness away.

"Daddy," I whispered, just before the grief washed completely over me and made the black become even blacker, sending me spiraling into unconsciousness, my only getaway from the endless emptiness of my new world.



Sasuke ran alongside Soma as the younger boy carried his beautiful little daughter back to the village. He couldn't take his eyes off the limp, tired figure that was his child, and he kept replaying in his minds eye the way Mikoto had looked when she'd come out of the small cavern in the Valley, all smiles and full of the belief that she wasn't quite blind yet. But then she'd realized her eyes were open, and Sasuke could not place the tightening feeling in his heart when her whole face fell. He'd felt his heart tug at her quiet call for him, for her daddy. He hadn't heard her call him that for years.

He desperately wanted to take her into his arms and hug her, and tell her that it was all going to be okay, but for some reason Soma would not let go. Soma refused to let anyone else carry her, claiming that he was going to take her back to the village and make sure she was alright. Sasuke took great offense to this, considering he was Mikoto's father and all, but he let the boy do what he wanted. He could see in Soma's eyes that fire that had burned so passionately in his own whenever he thought about Kaede all those years ago. Of course, he'd been too stubborn to let anyone see it. He'd only noticed it when he thought about her as he stared at his own reflection, something he still had a habit of doing.

Looking over at Soma, Sasuke thought of how the boy had always been there for his daughter when he wasn't. They'd always palled around together, training, shopping, eating, hanging out, everything; they always had the other there. If one decided to go jump in a mud puddle, the other was right behind them, cannon-balling into the muck. They stuck by each other through whatever tasks life put them through, from Chunin exams to dealing with older siblings' nasty mouths. He couldn't have wanted a better friend for Mikoto.

"Almost there, Mikoto," Sasuke heard Soma whisper to the unmoving Mikoto as they grew closer to the main area of the village. "Don't worry. You're going to be just fine."

Sasuke smirked and shook his head. Only a fool would talk to someone who wasn't going to answer back. Well, maybe not just a fool. A lovesick fool, more specifically, and Soma fit that persona perfectly. Sasuke had always imagined (due to Kaede's constant insistence on the subject) that Soma and Mikoto would eventually get together. He'd been hoping, actually, that they would become an item. So far, though, it hadn't happened.

Another glance at his daughter's closed face made all the mischief fade from his being, replaced by sorrow. He was the reason she'd run away, the reason she had always pushed herself, just to get his approval. And he'd always turned her down, told her she wasn't even close to her brother's level. He hadn't even realized the pain he was causing her. He just thought—it was the way he'd been raised, always being placed in the shadow of Itachi. It was the only sort of parenting he knew how to do. He only knew how to praise the most skilled, and encourage the weaker of the children to become more like the strongest.

Maybe his methods of parenting hadn't been the best. Hell, they were probably the worst! Hadn't Kaede always told him to be nicer to his daughter, to treat her as well as he did Itake? Hadn't she said thousands of times that he was being a bad father to Mikoto? And had he listened? No. He'd told her over and over that he knew how great Mikoto was, that she was going to become a very skilled ninja in time, but he wanted to push her a little more than he had Itachi. The way his father had.

Cursing his own stupidity under his breath, Sasuke slowed down as he and Soma ran up to the hospital where Sakura had probably gone by now, to wait. He held the door open for the boy, ran in behind him, and took his daughter from his arms. Soma tried to protest, but Sasuke threw him a death glare that shut him up. He ran back through the swinging double doors, ignoring the receptionist yelling at him that he wasn't allowed back there. He hollered for Tsunade, or Sakura, or Shizune, or anyone, to come help him, please! His daughter was in trouble!

As he ran, he looked down at the still person in his arms and said, "I promise, Mikoto, I'll be a better dad. I swear. I'll make it up to you. You deserve it."

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**Yay! Cute moments! Father-Daughter moments! Lol. And as a daddy's girl myself, I know that it hurts when your dad is disappointed in you. Sniff. I sympathize, Mikoto. So she's finally blind. Phew. I'll write some more soon. When I can pull myself away from my other story, that is...hehe...**

**REVIEW!**

**Luv Much!**

**Nicola**


	7. Waking Up

**Okay it's been a while...sorry i never have time lol. I'm trying tho. It's sorta short, but it's what i've got for now...**

**Enjoy!!**

There was only darkness, thick black smog in which I was floating. I was weightless, flat on my back and being carried by a mist I couldn't see, only feel. Nothing mattered where I was. Nothing at all. I was just there, wherever "there" was. Never before had I felt such a sensation of emptiness, numbness. That's what it was—I was numb from head to toe. I had no feeling. And I couldn't bring myself to open my eyes to what I knew lay behind their eyelids. Even now, I could tell that the heavy weight pressing on my pupils was not just my imagination. It was real, all of it.

Sometimes life screwed around with you, it was a fact of life that everyone had to accept. And some people were screwed with more often that others, given the harder road to walk down that was supposed to make them stronger. Those who could hold on, stand strong, would make it, would become the great persons they were meant to be. And those who could not take it ended up with normal lives, normal existences that never became complete. I didn't want to be one of them, but how could I surpass my brother, my father, my mother, to become the greatest I could be? Life had thrown me an unfair card, the witch of them all, and now expected me to overcome it.

Faintly, I could hear quiet voices, and something that sounded like piano music, one of my favorite ballads being played out on the black and white keys. I couldn't place the name, but the soothing strains began to relax my body further, encouraging me to fall into the inevitable darkness that awaited me. It wasn't like I could fight it. It would be nice just to float here and rest for eternity, wouldn't it? Just sleep, sleep everything away, the dull ache of my eyes, the pain in my chest, the stress resting on my shoulders. Everything, just…gone.

And then, everything became clearer.

Not in a literal sense—I still couldn't see, whether my eyes were open or closed. But now I could feel that the mist was not mist at all, but bed sheets, and the weight on my eyes was something like tape or bandages. There was a soft pillow behind my head, and the piano music was really piano music, coming from what sounded like a stereo or something. Everything else was quiet, the voices slowing down and stopping completely. I focused on the piano, replaying it over and over in my head.

The bed sheets under me I recognized as my own, meaning I was in my room and that the stereo was my brother's, since I didn't have one. The voices belonged most likely to someone in my family like my Dad, or Mom, or Itake. One of them, at least. Then I heard the door open and someone walk in. I couldn't tell who it was, not by just the footsteps.

That person sat on the end of my bed, making the mattress sink a little bit. Okay, now I was really confused. Who was this? Whoever it was reached over and took my hand in theirs, giving it a tiny squeeze. Mischievously, I thought about the reaction I would get if I squeezed back, so I did. The person jumped, and I couldn't help but laugh. Mom wouldn't have jumped, neither Dad nor Itake. It had to be Soma.

"You brat!" he laughed after a moment, and I grinned. I still couldn't open my eyes, not that it mattered anyway. It was just nice to hear his voice.

"Well, I couldn't pass up a chance like that now could I?" I teased, and he chuckled again. "So, what's up?"

I swear, if I could've seen his face, it would have been confused and a little disturbed, just by the way he shifted his weight and the silence that followed my simple question. So I had to ask, "What?"

"Um, well," he started, playing with the fingers on my hand. I felt my chest swell. Okay, so how come even with this whole being blind issue and the depression I knew was going to hit me anytime soon, I was still able to get butterflies and that funny feeling in my chest whenever Soma was around? Urg, hormones suck. "You're blind, so it kinda makes me worried that you're attempting to carry on a normal conversation when you should be moping and throwing hissy fits. Not that I want you to mope!" he added quickly, and I could just imagine the horrified expression on his face.

Yeah, I was enjoying myself, even with the overhanging rain cloud that I kept pushing back despite my strongest instincts. I wanted to enjoy my time with Soma, not worry over something that I couldn't fix. "I know. But I'm not upset right now, really. I mean, I'm sure it's going to hit me soon, but not now. I'm more or less just happy to be home."

Soma sighed, relieved. "Okay, just as long as you go through the normal stages of grief and don't pass over anything important. If you did, I would have to question your sanity." I could hear the smile in his voice. He was quite adorable, even when I could only hear him.

"So where're my parents and brother?" I finally asked, knowing that this question would most certainly prompt Soma to get up and find them. He hesitated, though, so I figured they were off on some mission or whatever.

"Your brother went out with Arashi for some training, and your mom was given another mission. Your dad's here, though." He sounded nervous, like the mere mention of my father would send me into hysterics. His intentions were good, and his guess was not too off the mark. I began to feel butterflies, frightened ones, flying around in my stomach. What was Dad going to say to me?

He would probably be disappointed in me for running away, for acting so weak when faced with a crisis. He would be angry with me, and not want to talk to me ever again. Great, just great. Like I needed any more help harming my relationship with my dad.

"Oh, um, can I see—erm, listen—him?" I asked hesitantly, still not sure if I wanted him around. I didn't know if I could face his criticism just yet.

But then I heard the door creak open, and Soma stood. A few seconds later, a heavier weight pressed down on my mattress, the door shut, and my father's rough hand reached up shakily and brushed the hair out of my face. The simple touch of his fingers to my forehead made all my muscles relax, and I smiled. I knew that we were okay, at least for now. Dad hadn't wanted to talk to me before, much less show any compassion towards me. This was a stretch for him.

"Hey," he said quietly, as if speaking any louder would cause me to break.

"Hi, Dad," I replied just as softly. I felt his thumb run over the bandages on my eyes and couldn't resist asking, "Why do I have wraps over my eyes, Dad?"

"Because Sakura performed a small surgery on your eyes, and said that it might help bring your sight back for small portions of time. We don't know what the results will be yet." Always straightforward. I particularly liked that part of my Dad right then.

"Oh, okay."

There was silence, but not uncomfortable silence like what we'd experienced before. I didn't have to feel the tension and disappointment in the air, or have to deal with the prickly feeling of Dad staring into my back, or studying my imperfect eyes. Everything seemed to be okay between us right then. And I liked it.

"Mikoto." I started and turned my head back to the direction Dad's voice was coming from. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been such a bad father to you. I should have talked to you more and not criticized so much. I'm sorry. Can you forgive me?"

Okay. I had been waiting to hear those words for so long, I felt like I was going to cry. I didn't know if I was capable of crying right then, what with the bandages on my eyes and the whole blindness thing, but the sound of the words made my heart swell and I sat up, reaching for him. And then I was hugging him, burying my head in his shoulder and feeling him hugging me back tighter. I wanted so much to see his face, but just to feel his warmth surrounding me and hear him whispering how sorry he was in my ear was enough. Maybe eventually I would get to see him look proudly down on me, but not for a long time. Right now, I would have to settle with just hearing that he was glad I was his daughter.

When we finally pulled apart, reluctantly, I might add, Dad sighed through his nose and held my hand. We sat there silently together, just enjoying each others company (for once). It felt nice to be able to sit down with my father and not have to feel uncomfortable, Used to be that I couldn't be anywhere near him without mentally evaluating my less than perfect self. Today, I was seeing the world through new eyes, no pun intended.

Suddenly, what I wanted most was my older brother. I felt a pang in my chest at the thought of him, longing for him to come and play with my hair like always. I wanted everyone—Mom to kiss my forehead, Dad to hold my hand, Itake to talk and tease me like always. And Soma to tickle my feet like he did whenever I was really sick and had to stay in from practices. I loved it when he tickled my feet. It made me feel better to laugh.

A few moments later, Dad stood up and kissed my forehead crookedly. I smiled, both at the humor of it and the warmth of the gesture. He said, "I'm going to go fix some dinner. I'll bring you some."

I replied, "No, Dad. I'll come in there. I need to walk around anyway." I could feel his worried gaze on me, and then I heard him leave, lighter footsteps taking place of his heavier ones. Soma was back. My pink-haired best friend grabbed hold of my hand the second he saw I was trying to stand and attempted to make me sit back down. I may have been blind, but I was still strong, and he couldn't quite make me lay on the bed again.

"Are you sure?" he asked as I swung my legs over the side of the bed, shoved the covers off of me, and tenderly put some weight on my feet. They felt fine.

"Soma," I said, shaking my head. "I'm still quite capable of walking, you know. I'm not an infant, so don't worry. I'm a ninja, remember?" I cracked a grin, but I wasn't sure if he returned it or not. I held out my hand, and he took it, allowing me to put my weight on him before standing.

My feet felt funny, like they were jelly, and a short stab of pain shot through my legs. I gasped, and Soma placed his free hand on the small of my back as if he expected me to fall over. I was unbalanced, but I wasn't helpless. I placed some weight on my legs again, testing how much they could hold. One second later, I was standing.

Soma still held my hand, but I was standing on my own. The biggest grin spread across my face, I could feel my cheeks stretching, and I turned towards Soma. "I'm standing!" This was a small accomplishment, but considering the fact that I'd just gone through surgery, was blind, and had been bedridden for Kami knows how long, I was quite proud of myself for being able to stand by myself. And my pride swept upwards even more when Soma gave me a quick hug.

"Good for you, Mikoto," he said, and then he led me through the bedroom. I didn't have to feel my way around, because I knew he wouldn't let me bump into anything. I trusted him completely and with my whole heart. There was nothing he wouldn't do for me. He had chased after me when I ran off, been there for me when I woke up, and dozens of other things through our lives that I couldn't have done without him. Like the Chunin exams? He was there, same team. The many missions we'd been paired up on? Saved my butt more times than I could count. Soma was my rock.

The hallway felt familiar and cold under my bare feet, and I shivered. Soma's hand tightened on mine, and I squeezed back to reassure him I was fine. My first instinct was to give him a smile, tell him with my eyes that I was going to be okay, but common sense overtook that urge. I knew full and well that I couldn't see, and not just because of the bandages over my eyes. The hand life had played me certainly wasn't fair, but it certainly wasn't something I could change.

I pled with me feet not to fail me and fall out from under me as we walked into the familiar-feeling living room. I felt the soft rug as we walked over it, the knot in the wood floor that had always been there, ever sine before I could remember. I could hear Dad in the kitchen making something to eat—presumable rice balls. They really were his only specialty, and the only thing he could make other than burnt toast. Sometimes I wondered about him.

"Hey, Dad," I said happily when Soma led me over to a chair. I felt it with my free hand before sitting down cautiously and relaxing once I was safely there. I couldn't tell what Dad's reaction was, but I judged it to be his reaction to everything else—a raised eyebrow, a "hn" and then returning to what he was doing before.

I felt Soma plop down beside me, and in a few minutes Dad had set down a plate in front of me. I felt around until Soma picked up my hand and placed it on a fork, which he then stuck into a small piece of food. When I brought it to my mouth, I realized that it was a rice ball, of course. The only thing that Dad could make.

"Yum," I said. Dad's rice balls were always delicious. He had no choice but to specialize in them since he really had no culinary talent. Before, when Mom was out on a mission and it was just Dad, Itake, and me, I would make dinner or Itake would, or Dad would just order something. And if worse came to worse, we would head over and eat with Neji and Mikki. Surprisingly, Neji was quite the cook when he wanted to be.

I heard Dad scoff at my murmur of culinary pleasure, and smiled. Whatever compliment was thrown his way he brushed off. But that was just Dad, of course.

"So, how many days am I supposed to recover or whatever?" I asked, trying to be nonchalant about the whole thing when my heart was racing already. There was nothing more that I wanted than to get out and train again, but then there was this issue with being blind and all.

Dad sighed and I heard him set his plate down and sit across from me. I looked in his direction, even though I couldn't see. "Hmm…Sakura said a few days. You've been out of it for a few days. You can leave now." Meaning that he wanted me to get up and about and not hang around moping. Some people would take the way he said this as an insult, but I knew Dad better than that. Plus, I was going to be able to be free! One of the things I'd been worried about was being an invalid for days on end, but since I'd slept through the recovery days, there was absolutely nothing keeping me in.

So I leapt up from the table without touching the rice balls and, grabbing a hold of Soma's hand (which had been hovering closely near my arm), walked cautiously and as quickly as I could towards the back door.

For once, I didn't trip. Surprisingly.

Outside, I breathed in the fresh air, filling my lungs and spinning in circles with Soma. He didn't seem to mind being dragged around while I spun and twirled and jumped with joy. It was odd—I'd never been this happy while able to see. Now that I was blind, I couldn't push back the delight that filled my chest.

Everything was going to be okay, at least right now. I hoped.

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**Hope you enjoyed!! Review please!! And i'll try to write more now.**

**Luv much**

**Nicola**


	8. AUTHORS NOTEPLEASE READ!

Hello everyone! I'm baaaaaaack.

I know it's been a while since I've updated—like two years—but I'm ready to update again. I've started re-reading my stories and now that I am feeling the writing bug again, more chapters (and hopefully more stories) will be coming. I had serious writers block. And started college. But my first two semesters are almost over, I'm in the groove of the college life, and can happily write my heart out again. Bouryokudan and Uchiha Beauty will be updated in the next week or two. Promise!

I hope I haven't lost any of you due to the gap…and I hope to gain more readers!

Love much!

Nicola 3


	9. Surviving the Darkness

**Well here it is! I'm so so so so so so so sorry for the humongously long wait. But I've finally got it up. I am soo excited for this chapter! And I hope you all like it too! Read and please review! Thanks sooooo sooooo much!  
DIsclaimer: Don't own Naruto, never have, never will**

**Luv much!**

**Nicola**

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I yawned and opened my eyes, stretching my arms as I pondered about the futility of separating my eyelids. It wasn't as if I could see, after all. But it was more of a force of habit, muscle memory, so I kept on. I swung my legs away from the bed and out from under the covers and shivered as they touched the cold floor. My toes touched on the familiar surface as I stood and wriggled them, shuffling forward a few inches until I felt the little knob in the floor that let me know I was headed in the right direction.

When I reached the door, I listened closely for a moment before walking out, carefully shutting it behind me. I heard the shower running about three feet down the hall—Itake was taking a shower after his usual morning practice. The smell of waffles wafted towards me and I took a deep breath, enjoying the smell. As I walked past the bathroom where Itake was showering, I felt a small pang of jealousy that still plagued me after all this time. I hated that Itake could still train, could still be ANBU, while I was stuck at home most of the time. But I was used to the feeling now, so I could easily push it down with the rest of my irritations.

In the kitchen, I heard someone fussing around the counter and stove, and I recognized them as Mom. I sat at my usual place at the table and smiled. "Morning, Mom."

Although I couldn't see her expressions or body language, I could tell that she was more than a little annoyed this morning. "Good morning," she said curtly, and I heard something that sounded vaguely like someone kicking the bottom cabinet. She cursed under her breath, and set a plate in front of me. I reached for the fork that was always on the right side of my plate, set two inches away from the edge, and poked around until I found the waffle. I then cut off a piece and lifted it to my mouth, thoroughly enjoying the taste.

"Good food, Ma." I grinned but couldn't tell her reaction. She just went on doing whatever it was she was doing. I kept eating, wondering where Dad was.

"ITAKE!" Mom shouted, and I jumped. "Get in here right now! Breakfast is waiting and I'm going to throw yours out if you don't hurry!" Jeez woman!

I heard someone thumping down the hall—Itake, of course—and rush into the kitchen. Mom winced loudly at the apparent sight of him, which I seriously wanted to see. I kept eating, however, mentally grumbling about the restraints of being blind. I wanted to see my brother getting yelled at instead of just listening to it. That was no fun.

"Itake, where is your shirt? And shoes? And pants?" Mom sighed heavily, and I heard her put food in front of his chair. I figured he must still be in his towel, dripping wet from his shower. "Go get dressed, please. You better be glad your father isn't home."

I perked up a bit at that. Dad wasn't home? Well…where could he be? It wasn't as if he went on missions or anything, because that was Mom's thing. And the grocery shopping had been done last week. There was no obvious reason why Dad was out and about. He just didn't leave the house often.

"Where's Dad?" I asked, and waited. Mom didn't answer for a few seconds, and her hesitation made me worry. Had something happened?

"Dad's on a mission," she finally replied. I sat very still, trying to process this information. Dad…was on a…mission? As long as I could remember he had refused to go on any mission, ever, because of us. Missions belonged to Mom, if solely for her inability to be a housewife. I mean, I guess Dad got restless too, but still!

"Oh. Okay then." I poked at my waffle. "When will he be back?"

"Hmm…in about a week I guess. It's an assassination mission, so it might just take a little longer than that. I'm glad he's out, though," she added, and I could hear the smile in her voice. "He's been cooped up for too long. Your father is a wandering soul, always has been. I don't care if you tried to tie him to a chair with chains, he would either break out or hop on the chair legs until he went somewhere different." I could tell that Mom was getting all pensive, so I stood up from the table to leave her to her thoughts.

"Well, I'm going to go to my room now," I said slowly and carefully, and when she didn't answer I assumed she had nodded or something (forgetting about my blindness, even if it had been two years) so I went down the hallway and ran smack into something. "Oof!"

I heard a familiar laugh and smiled widely. Finally! A pair of arms pulled me into a hug and kissed me on the forehead, and I giggled girlishly. It had taken him way too long to get here this morning, and he knew I didn't like to wait!

"Soma!" I said by way of greeting and reached up, feeling along his arm to his shoulder, up his face and into his hair, which I tugged playfully. "What took you so long?"

"Itake wanted to go for a run," he explained, and I sniffed the air eagerly—I loved the smell his shampoo and soap made. I grinned happily and reached down to grab his hand.

"I should probably get a shower and then we'll go out, okay?" He touched my face in agreement and I turned down the hallway, hearing him go into the kitchen and greet my mother. I hopped in the shower eagerly, thinking about the past few years as I did so often.

It had been two years since I'd gone blind, woken up in my room, and had that mini-reconciliation with my father. Since then, Soma had been by my side every day from breakfast to whenever Dad kicked him out which usually happened around seven or eight at night, after dinner. Dad and I were closer—we hung out, talked as much as you would expect Dad to talk, and I was even trying to teach him to cook something other than rice balls. That wasn't going as well as planned but oh well. He was more open to me now and I couldn't be happier. Well, I'd thought that, until the day that…it still gave me butterflies.

Soma and I had been out for ramen and as I was eating mine I'd felt him looking at him. I swallowed, turn to him, and ended up kissing him. At first, I panicked—my blindness had made me accidentally kiss the guy I was crushing on! Until I realized that he was kissing me back, and that he had instigated the embrace, not me. I nearly passed out. I melted and was so happy and ever since then we'd been together as a couple and not just best friends. He still held my hand and made me feel wonderful but it all had a different meaning now. He loved me, I loved him, and it was wonderful.

Kaede sat on the couch, having just watched her daughter leave with her boyfriend, and a pinprick of worry pressed against her chest. No, she wasn't worried about Mikoto who had Soma to take care of her. She was fretting about Sasuke, as she so often did. This was his first mission in such a long time, and she was so afraid of him getting hurt because he was out of practice. If she ever voiced this worry to him he would scoff, of course, but she still worried, always.

She sighed and pulled her legs underneath of her. Itake was either outside, somewhere with Arashi, or doing whatever. She could care less right then. She was more worried about her son's father than anything else. Soma was there to take care of Mikoto, and Itake could take care of himself. Sasuke, though it was ridiculous to imagine him being out of practice, easily might be hurt, whether severely or not.

Uncomfortable on the couch now, Kaede stood up and walked outside, looking at the empty district they lived in. The street was dusty and barely used, the houses forlorn-looking and without anyone to take care of them. Sure, she had brought the idea up to Sasuke before, but she'd always been shot down. He didn't want to clean up the mess—just his house and that was it. No one was using them, he argued every time. Kaede just shook her head and started walking down the street.

So many memories—good and bad—filled the village that she lived in. And throughout everything she had gone through she still felt immensely loyal it. She didn't like to go out in the streets very often, because there were still many people who remembered or had studied the war and what had caused it. She flinched at the memory. Her own stupidity had nearly cost them the entire village, forever, but thanks to the determination of her fellow ninjas and her wonderful Sasuke, everything was okay.

Kaede stopped at the gate leading into the street and clenched her fist before venturing out. She wasn't in much of a mood to have anyone look at her funnily or make snide comments under their breath. If they did as much as glance at her they were going to lose a tooth. She smirked, thinking that marriage and kids had not changed her as much as she'd originally thought.

The streets were filled with people, as usual, and she strolled along casually, trying not to meet anyone's eyes. Mostly they ignored her but she did feel a few glances her way, which she put out of her mind—instead she thought of maybe running into her daughter.

She saw a few kids standing by an ice cream shop, laughing and jeering at something, even tossing a piece of trash or two at it. Immediately she went to intervene, thinking that it was a dog or cat or some other helpless animal. Yes, it was helpless, and yes, it pissed her off to see the kids being so mean.

Especially since it was her daughter.

Mikoto was standing alone outside of the ice cream shop, probably having stayed out to enjoy the sunshine while Soma went inside to get their cones. From what Kaede could see, the girl had just been keeping to herself when the kids surrounded her and began taunting her. As Kaede got closer, she heard what they were saying.

"Look at the poor little blind Uchiha, so helpless! Too bad she'll never be a ninja!"

"Maybe she'll just have to run off and join her uncle—oh wait, he's no better!"

"Look at her! She's so stupid!"

"Ugly little brat!"

"Nasty!"

Unable to contain herself any longer, and vaguely wondering where Soma was, Kaede let loose that red-hot anger she usually kept to herself except for missions. She closed the distance between herself and the group of teenagers and opened her mouth to shout, then stopped in utter shock.

I shuddered as they shouted taunts at me. Where was Soma? What was taking him so long? I wanted to scream for him but nothing came out of my mouth. Why was this happening to me?!

I had just been minding my own business when something hit me. I hadn't known what to do so I'd ignored it. Until more stuff started hitting me, and the teenagers (I could tell because their voices weren't totally mature yet) began yelling at me. Well, it was not quite yelling but beings stuck in the dark for two years made every other sense go on haywire, so it sounded like yelling.

Forcibly I tried to ignore them but they wouldn't go away. I tried to move away but found that I was trapped in a semi-circle against the part of the building that wasn't window. I winced away from them, frightened now. All I could hear was their jests.

"…freak, daughter of a betrayer…"

"Disgusting, waste of a ninja…"

"Nothing like the 'great Uchiha's' we hear of!"

I cowered under their insults. They continued to shout at me, calling me names, pointing out who my parents and my extended family was, that I was useless and stupid because I was blind, a speck of dirt on the good name of the Uchiha. I trembled, my useless eyes darting back and forth, causing them to laugh harder. I couldn't speak…wanted to run but couldn't…and Soma wasn't around to protect me!

That's when one of them touched me, as I shook. He laid his hand on my arm, and shoved me against the wall. I could feel myself get angry, something that never really happened anymore. Ever since going blind I had been a very positive person for some reason. Don't ask me why, it'd just happened.

But I was angry now. I swung out, probably missing by miles, and flushing because of it. My head hurt, was throbbing really and to distract myself from their taunts I tried to find the source. I gasped. It was my eyes.

The moment I realized this, they pulsed particularly hard, and I shut them, putting my hands up to them. The kids laughed more, and threw another piece of trash at me. "Ugly little brat!" I heard. I lifted my head and lowered my hands, and opened my eyes.

Immediately, the first thing I noticed was that there were six of them, all boys, dressed in Chunin and Jounin clothes. My mind took in their positions and distances automatically, before even registering the fact that _I could see them_. I blinked slowly, hoping that the sensation wouldn't go away. It didn't. I even shut my eyes and opened them again. I could still see. Then I noticed that I could see the chakra flow of the six boys in front of me. They looked mildly afraid, and I realized that I was using the Sharingan, the very thing that had avoided me for the longest time.

Vaguely I saw a woman who looked suspiciously like my mother standing behind the group, but then I was too preoccupied with attacking my tormentors. All of my ninja training came back in a flash and I was beating them.

I grabbed one by the arm and threw him into the one across from him, and as another tried to grab me I swung around and kicked him in the side. He fell to the ground, gasping, as I went for another. I took him by the wrist, broke it, and blocked the kick he aimed at me. I twisted his arm around his back, while simultaneously elbowing a fifth in the gut as he tried to get me from behind. The sixth boy just stared at me and took off. I glared and shoved the one in my arms to the ground. My mother (it really was her!) took a few slow steps to me and waved her hand at me.

"Mom!" I said, pushing it away, suddenly overcome with fear and happiness and shock and sadness all at the same time. "I can see! I can _SEE_!" I shouted this last word, and Mom pointed behind me. I turned to see Soma standing with only one cone in his hand—the other was on the ground.

I walked over to him and looked up at his beautiful, maturing face. I soaked up every inch of it I could. "Soma, I can see." He nodded slowly and kissed me. And then it all went black again. I screamed.

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**Wow. **

**She can see again.**

**OMG.**

**YAY! but there's a catch...and as soon as papa gets back she'll have to use his help in figuring it out. Hopefullness, joy, and sorrow are soon to come. BTW, if anyone has ideas for another story (because this one will be ending soon) please hit me up :) thanks loves!**

**love much!**

**nicola**


	10. Understanding

**Sorry I haven't posted in a while! I had finals and my internet box thingy decided not to work. I just got it fixed yesterday! So now that I'm on vacation, I am going to be able to write a whole lot more! Hope you enjoy this chapter!!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Love much!  
Nicola**

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I shuddered against Soma's chest, clamping my jaw shut for fear that another scream would come out. I was mildly embarrassed about screaming because the darkness came. I should be used to the black of being blind, not startled by it. Soma had his arms wrapped around me, and I could feel my mother close behind me. She probably wanted to embrace me but felt too awkward to intrude. Oh, Mom.

I heard two sets of feet hit the ground on either side of Mom, and if she were startled by it she did not audibly show it. I slowly pulled back from Soma and turned around to hear the voices I knew were coming.

"What happened?" It was Itake, sounding like the wonderfully protective brother I so wanted him to be right then. I reached out and felt him pull me into a one-armed hug.

"She was being teased by some Genin and Chunin, and…" Mom swallowed loudly and I nestled closer into the crook of Itake's arm. I knew that Arashi was on my other side.

"I got my Sharingan," I said slowly, testing out the words. I felt Itake tighten in shock and heard Arashi gasp in surprise. "I could see when it…happened. That's how I took up for myself."

"Beat the shit out of the kids, is more like it," Mom mumbled. "Look, Soma, take her home and let her rest. Itake, Arashi, and I will go after those punks and teach them a lesson or two. Go." Soma pulled me away from my brother, and I went (quite reluctantly) and listened to my family and member of my extended family take off. Soma pulled my hand gently and he led my back into the district.

As we walked, I kept replaying the images that I had seen today. I had seen color, the ground, the sky, the shops, and Soma and Mom's faces for the first time in two years. It felt as if I were in shock. The colors, the images, they were just so beautiful. Blues and browns and greens and pinks and reds and every other color—I clung to them as if they were my lifeline. It was strange. When I had originally gone blind, I had not tried to hold onto the pictures of my life up until then. I was happy to let them drift into far away memories. But now…now I couldn't let them go.

All of those old images were coming back in a flood. Dad's face when he was annoyed, the way his eyes narrowed whenever Itake or I did something stupid. Mom looking up at Dad with those stupid goo-goo eyes and silly grin, Itake's silent gagging whenever they kissed. Soma and his bandana, and Naruto and Sakura. I felt a tug, a yearning to see those images again. In all this time I had almost forgotten them all.

For some reason I wanted to cry. How could I have forgotten all of it so easily? My family, my friends, everything I had ever cherished and loved was almost completely gone. But instead of showing weakness in front of Soma (as if he hadn't seen me at my worst anyway), I chose to suck it up and keep on walking.

Before I knew it we were at the gates into the Uchiha district and Soma was pulling me through. I noticed where we were because the sounds of everyday life had quieted to a dull roar. No one came near our district. It was almost taboo.

Soma led me to my house—exactly fifty-eight paces from the gate—and helped me to the couch. Normally I would argue with him, because of course I could take care of myself by now! But he always insisted on helping me everywhere. It thoroughly annoyed me. I was capable of finding my house, of finding the couch and the kitchen and the bedroom and the bathroom. Why did everyone have to treat me like an incapable child?!

Had I been in any other condition, I would have been quite miffed.

I sat down and rubbed my currently useless eyes. Could it be that this was just a random fluke? Never before had I felt even the slightest clue to having the Sharingan, so maybe my eyes had just simply reacted and would never react again. Or maybe I did have the Sharingan. What then? Could I have the Sharingan activated all the time, or was there a time limit? In all my years I had never researched my family's bloodline. Then again, maybe there was no need to. Maybe I was just imagining having seen it all—I hadn't even beaten up the kids, just heard someone do so and pretended it was me. Just as I was beginning to question my sanity, I heard three sets of feet clomp inside.

Mom, Itake, and Arashi came into the living room, and the two boys flopped down on the couch on either side of me. Soma came out of the kitchen where he'd presumably been making tea. I felt a warm cup touch my hands so I gladly took hold of it and smelled the sweet scent of Soma's special tea. Itake tossed his arm behind me and over my shoulders.

"Well?" I asked, trying to keep calm.

"We got them," Mom sighed, and I heard feet shuffle irritably. She was annoyed. "But we were intercepted by three of the boys' sensei. I have never had so little respect for anyone in my life." There was venom in her voice.

Arashi picked up from there. "When we managed to corner all of them and about to give them a stern 'talking to,' their sensei, Mata-san, arrived and took up for the idiots. He then began to tell us that we were going about the situation all wrong, for we weren't even sure if his boys were responsible, or if the event had even taken place." I heard soft laughter that so reminded me of Naruto. "It pissed Kaede off."

"Damn straight!" Mom muttered, standing and pacing.

"She punched Mata-san in the face," Itake said exasperatedly, as if he simply could not take our mother anywhere. "He got mad, and they started yelling at each other. Names were thrown, so were punches. I'm proud to say she doesn't have a mark on her." Itake laughed this time, and ruffled my hair. I sipped my tea again.

"And what did you do, big brother? Stand there?"

Itake chuckled. "Nah, you know me better than that! I put the little brats in Tsukiomi and gave them a teasing of my own while their sensei was fighting with Mom. I think they're still in the alley." I laughed along with him and Arashi, and Mom came over to give us both a big hug.

"Now, about this incident," Mom began. I groaned and she scoffed. "Mikoto, you know that we have to talk to someone about this. Kami but I wish your father was home! Sasuke has the absolute worst timing!" And indeed Dad did. Oh, my dear father.

I shrugged as nonchalantly as possible, trying to act as if the whole incident didn't bother me. It did, though. It was starting to sink in that I actually had seen for the first time in two years. Strangely enough, my eyes didn't feel any different. I'd assumed that having the Sharingan would make one's eyes feel strange. Mine didn't. I frowned and turned my empty stare to my brother.

"Brother, why do my eyes feel normal?"

I heard him chuckle, and he replied, "Mikoto, your eyes are going to feel perfectly fine when the Sharingan isn't activated. They'll only feel weird if you overuse them. Okay?" I nodded.

Suddenly, I wanted Dad.

"I need to get Mom," Arashi said, and he got up and moved to the door. "She'll want to know about this." I couldn't tell if anyone agreed or disagreed with him, and he walked outside. The door shut quietly behind him. I sipped absently at my tea.

No one was saying anything, so I took advantage of the momentary quiet to finish my tea and wonder what was going to happen next. Sakura was most likely going to come over and examine me, or ask that I go to her office. Maybe even Tsunade-sama would pay us a visit. I shuddered a little—no matter how much my parents liked Tsunade, the big-breasted woman still scared me. I vaguely remembered a hug she gave me at an early age. Those breasts of her could crush a child as small as I'd been!

If Sakura or Tsunade-sama looked over my eyes and tried to figure out what was going on, there was going to be a lot of trips to the hospital and a lot of examinations. I was not looking forward to any more blood work or tests. In fact, the thought made me cringe. So I stood up from my place on the couch and walked into the kitchen to put my mug on the counter. I heard someone follow me—probably Soma—but I ignored them and went outside. The person followed me. For once, I didn't recognize the steps, because they were so light-footed and almost silent.

Outside, I went off the porch and breathed in the fresh air. I didn't hear the person, but I could feel their presence. I put them from my mind; instead, I focused on my eyes. I shut my eyes and tried to recreate the pulsing, powerful feeling behind them. I tried, I honestly tried. But it would not come. I could not make myself turn on the Sharingan. I could feel the frustration building up in me, and I stuffed it back down.

"No, let it build," I heard someone say, immediately recognizing the voice as my mothers. She strode up to me and put her hand on my shoulder.

I turned a confused, empty gaze in her direction. "What are you talking about?"

"You were getting upset, I could tell. That's how it started before, remember? You were mad and threatened and upset and then your Sharingan turned on. Try it again."

Her advice seemed to make sense, so I tried. I tried to get angry, but remained passive. I sighed in frustration. I attempted to force some anger in me, to think of things that got me mad, but I just couldn't! There was nothing to really be mad about. I mean, sure, I could be frustrated or sad or envious, but I wasn't mad at all. I was generally a happy person.

I could feel Mom fidgeting beside me, and when she fidgeted that meant she was thinking. I got a sinking feeling in my stomach—when Mom came up with a plan, it usually worked. However, it also came with pain, exertion, or time. Time was something I had, so that didn't bother me. But the whole pain and exertion thing? Not feeling it.

"I'm going to try something," Mom began slowly. I could almost imagine her looking back at the house to make sure no one was going to come outside. This image twisted my gut.

"What…?" I asked hesitantly. This was not going to be fun.

Mom was silent for a few moments (which only made me more nervous) before finally saying, "I'm going to attack you!" in a wrongfully cheerful voice. Oh, Mom. The idea of fighting someone always gave her a buzz. She was worse than Itake. Speaking of which, that was probably where he got it.

"Uh, Mom, I'm blind, remember? You can't attack me."

"What does blindness have to do with anything? I'm quite capable of attacking you, unless you doubt my ability," she replied snidely, and I heard her slip a kunai out of the pouch she always kept on her hip. I tensed automatically, old shinobi habits coming back to the forefront of my mind.

"I meant that it wouldn't be fair," I quickly edited, hoping to Kami she would not try to attack me. She'd kill me! Well okay, she was my mother so she wouldn't kill me, but she'd probably give me a good beating up!

"Who said anything was fair?" Mom retorted, the kunai whooshing around so that I knew she was twirling it around her finger. "You should know best of all that life isn't fair. You never had the Sharingan when you were growing up. You never were able to fight as well as your brother or your father, or even me."

"Shut up!" I shouted, clenching my fists. I knew all this very well, and had pretty much come to terms with it all. But her repeating of my meager past was just re-opening nearly healed wounds. My chest swelled with anger. Why was she doing this to me?!

"Don't tell me to shut up!" Mom retorted in a pretty scary voice. "You're blind! You've been blind for three years, haven't been able to fight for three years! And when you finally can see, it's taken away from you. And now you're just back to being blind again, all that wasted ability and potential. You should be the angriest person here."

And she was right. The little angry monster I usually kept pressed deep down inside was growing, swelling, increasing in size with every second. My face was burning with my aggravation, so hot that it hurt. My hands shook. She had no right to be telling me this, to be berating me like this. She needed to shut up. I didn't care if she was my mother—no one was going to bring me back to that dark place. I knew I was never really strong, but reminding me of my blindness and my wasted talent was just putting salt in the wound.

My eyes pulsed fiercely.

Mom rushed at me.

I opened my eyes, and grabbed her by the wrist just a few inches from my skin. The kunai knife was just barely brushing my collarbone. Mom's brown hair blew around her face as she grinned. Her eyes danced in pleasure. I pushed her arm away from me and looked around.

I could see the house, the back porch. Standing on the porch was Soma, and my brother. I settled my eyes on him. Itake was still as tall, maybe an inch or two grown, a little more built than he'd been. And he was wearing his katana strapped to his back. I wondered when he'd gotten into that habit. He was grinning at me, his Sharingan on. I blinked.

"That's my girl!" Itake shouted from the porch, holding his fist out as if wanting me to fist-bump him. We air-bumped and he laughed. I found myself laughing too.

Mom joined in on the laughter, as did Soma. It felt so good to laugh with my family like this again. I turned in circles, taking in everything that was around me. The sky, the grass, the trees, the district, everything was so beautiful! I could not close my eyes, much less blink, for fear it would all disappear.

I was too busy in my own laughter and joy to notice that everyone else had stopped making noise. But when I stopped spinning, I realized that I was the only one laughing. I stopped immediately and looked at my mother, but she wasn't any help. She was staring off into the distance, a dreamy far-away look on her face. Itake and Soma were also staring in the same direction. I looked, too.

My Sharingan was picking something up far away. I guessed it was either Sakura or Arashi, or both. Maybe even Naruto was on his way. So I turned away and started back up to the house, wanting to get a good look in there before my Sharingan turned off. I was halfway inside when I heard Mom gasp, so I turned again.

There, sitting on the roof of the house next to ours, was Naruto, his cloak blowing in the breeze and his face triumphant. Someone jumped beside him, his dark head bowed as he crouched beside his old friend. My father slowly lifted his head and his Sharingan pinpointed on me. I felt…strange. I couldn't decipher the emotion, until I looked him straight in the eye. I was happy and relieved to see my father.

I ran off the porch, going straight for my father. My mother was still taking in the sight of him, drinking him in like she did every time she saw him. But I ignored her. I had only one goal—getting to my dad.

"Daddy!" I shouted, surprising myself with the use of the name I hadn't used for him since I was a young child.

He jumped off the roof and landed in front of me, his eyes flicking between my face and my mothers. She apparently nodded, because he pulled me into a tight hug.

"My little girl," he said so quietly that no one could hear except for me. "You can see.

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**Oh Sasuke. Such a good papa. **

**I hope ya'll enjoyed this! Keep on reading and reviewing!**

**Love Much!  
Nicola**


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